


Nodus Tollens

by Eckham



Series: Nodus Tollens: A Fake AH Compedium [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual OT6, Eventual Relationships, Fake AH Crew, Gang AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, OT6, Past Michael/Miles, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 92,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9835325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eckham/pseuds/Eckham
Summary: The one weakness of the Vagabond that no one would have guessed: Tagalongs.Or rather: The story of how one Michael Jones stopped drifting along the current and took his life back into his own hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey dudes, this is my first ever authors note. It's kinda weird, because I'll never again write an authors note for the first time after this. It kinda feels like a big moment for me, since I've never done something like this before. I hope you'll be patient with me as I navigate the ins and outs of writing and world building. I can't promise you that I'll be on any sort of schedule for updating this story, but I do promise that I will never abandon you, the reader, or this story. Because that would be unfair of me. We all know the heart break of falling in love with a fic that's doomed to never be finished. Anyway, hope you enjoy what I hope is the beginning of a grand adventure for you, me, and the story that's about to come your way! I look forward to hearing from all of you!
> 
> P.s: My writing is heavily inspired by music, so I'll try and leave a song that inspired me for each chapter when I update.  
> This chapter is brought to you via inspiration by: Foreigner-I Wanna Know What Love Is

“I wanna knooow whaat lovvve issssssssssssssssssss………….I want you to shoooww meeee……!” Michael sang at the top of his lungs. He was currently fiddling with a vest, a multitude of wires sticking out from a device attached to the front. 

"Innnnn my liiiifffee therrres been heartache and paiin - Ah fuck!” 

Lurching back from the wires he waved his hand frantically. The fucker had shocked him.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d do us the courtesy of not blowing us all to hell Michael.” A woman smirked from the doorway of his “office”. She shut off the music blaring from the speakers.

It wasn’t really an office, rather a open floor garage. The whole place was littered with different electrical parts, in all shapes and sizes. Different multicolored liquids and powders lined the shelves of the garage, and a giant cooler had been installed in the back half of the place to store the more volatile substances he carried around with him. It was probably the only place that felt like home to him. More reminiscent of his dad’s old workplace than anything. Before he became the bastard that he was. Miles always joked that Michael should have opened his own garage instead of blowing shit up for a living. He flinched away from the thought.

“Have ye no faith Kdin? It’s been like, five days since the last incident. It’s a world record at this point.”

“Only five days? It feels like just yesterday I was running in here with a fire extinguisher half expecting to see your flaming corpse on the ground.” She grinned and stepped inside. She was the only person left allowed to just walk in as she pleased. No one else had that right, and especially not since...well. He tried not to think too hard about that either.

“I hear they’re shipping your sorry ass out to Los Santos soon. Jersey won’t be the same without you.” She casually hopped onto the table nearest him, letting her legs dangle off the side. 

He was going to miss her when he was gone. She was probably the most tolerable person to be around lately. Even if he had been a complete ass to her these past few months. They had finally started to find some sort of solid ground under their feet recently. It was irritating that after they had finally started to piece their friendship back together he was being forced to leave. Though there was a small part of him that was relieved to have a reason to leave Jersey. Sometimes even he needed time away to work through some things.

“Yeah, can you believe this shit,” He picked up the first of the stack of files next to her, “I mean look at this ass hat! Who walks around wearing a mask like that? A psycho that's what. And who put this file together? Fucking Jacob? There is like a paragraph tops on the guy. How’s a guy supposed to murder someone with a fucking paragraph of information to go off of?”

“Hey asshole, I put these files together.” She punched him in the arm. “You wanna fucking do my job? You forget the password to your email every other day. Oh Kdin, can you help me with this shit? Whats a two step verification process? Is this shit even working? How do I look up this thing you already explained to me three thousand times? Besides the Vagabond is a fucking boogeyman, you're lucky you even got a paragraph on the guy.” 

“Alright alright I fucking get it already I’d be dead without you. Lay off the dramatics will ya? Jesus.” He grinned at her and pushed up the goggles from his eyes. She pretended to look pissed as she flipped her bangs out of her face. Pink was a good look for her. 

“You come to just give me shit or you got a going away present for me?” he said, nudging her in the side.

“Of course I got a gift for you. What am I an animal? Here is that map you requested.” she shoved him again, throwing the flash drive his way. “I can't believe they’re sending that asswipe Gary with you instead of me.”

“Well you know Sawyer, she likes keeping the best talent closest to her. Fucking bitch.”

He grunted, kneeling down to stick the flash drive in a nearby port. Thinking about the woman made his nose wrinkle. It wasn’t that he hated Sawyer, it was just that everything she did rubbed him the wrong way. If people weren’t so scared of her someone would have probably tried to murder her by now. But you don't become second in command to one of the biggest crews on the coast without reason.

A map pulled up on the screen of his monitor, splotches of red littering the page. Multi-colored lines zig zagged through the city of Los Santos, and there were small labels of snarky commentary left by Kdin peppered along each line. This was exactly what he needed to get the job done. He couldn’t help but smile. She always did good work, but only the people she liked got access to her personal commentary and opinions on things. He got a kick out of the little turtles drawn over some buildings.

“Teenage mutant ninja turtles references huh? You should be glad I understand your brand of weird messages.”

When he turned around to thank her, she wasn’t even looking at him anymore. She had turned her attention to the vest he had been working on. A frown graced her lips as she ran a finger along the fabric. “A kamikaze vest? Really Michael?” Obvious concern laced her tone.

“It’s for emergencies only. I don’t plan on offing myself anytime soon.” He tried to joke to avoid the topic of discussion. But it had obviously fell flat as her frown only deepened. He sighed. It wasn’t like her worry was coming from nowhere. He had no reason to be frustrated with her. He spent enough time mad as it was. Walking up to her he placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“Seriously K, I wouldn’t do that. It would be….disrespectful.”

She looked up at him and blinked, “I was just thinking it’s been almost a year now. The world really does keep spinning doesn’t it? You and him could have-”

“Don’t.” He flinched away from her as if burned. They were making so much progress, and he was leaving tomorrow. He didn’t want to let this turn into another argument. He couldn’t. It wasn’t happening. Not now, not ever. They weren't talking about this. “We weren’t like that. You know that, he knew that. Stop. Just stop okay?”

She pursed her lips, clearly having more to say on the matter. But Michael was having none of it.

“If that's all you got for me I have a meeting to get to.”

There was a pregnant pause as she regarded him carefully. As if she was weighing her options. Finally she slid off the table and moved to his desk in the corner of the garage. Finding a piece of paper and a pen she scribbled an address on it. 

“I….took the liberty of combining your assets with his after everything. I think that's what he would have wanted. Everything has been moved like you requested. You'll know where to find the key.”

Without so much as a goodbye, she left the garage. He let her go without a fight. He sighed again. What a fucking mess. He waited a couple of minutes before getting ready to leave. He really hadn't been lying to her when he said he had a meeting.

The Corpirate headquarters was a complex of buildings disguised as a construction company. From the outside it just looked like a bunch of warehouses, but the inside of each building couldn't be more different. Michael's garage lay on the outskirts of the huge lot. The center of the buildings was where the big wigs worked. There were a lot of small scale lots just like this one scattered through the coast, but only high ranking crew members had access to this particular lot.

Buildings were organized by order of value of the member. The more important you made yourself, the closer to the center building you were. Michael had a philosophy that the more important you were in a gang the more likely you were going to get killed, which was why he was perfectly content being on the outskirts of the base. Just important enough to keep around but not a high value enough of a target to worry about. He liked being underestimated. Though he had a feeling the boss and Sawyer saw right through him.

Michael in this instance was headed toward what he liked to call “The Bullseye”. The heart of the Corpirate. Apparently they had information from an informant based in Los Santos. Something they could use to initiate their plans. They had agents trickling into the city for months, living out normal lives in the city until given the all clear to activate. All that was left was for the bigger players like Michael and Gary to come in and put everything into motion.

He wrinkled his nose as he stepped into the office building. He was very acutely aware of how out of place he looked. For a gang the Corpirate sure knew how to put on a show. If he didn’t know any better this place would look just like any other corporate office building. He had blown up enough of them to know. He hadn’t bothered to clean up before he left his garage. Grease stains adorned his arms and dark tank top, and he had long since unzipped his jumpsuit and tied it around his waist in a futile attempt to keep cool in the sweltering heat that was a New Jersey summer. He had at least remembered to take off his goggles.

He could tell Sawyer didn't approve at his attire the second he walked into her office. Gary was already there, in a pressed shirt and clean slacks. His hair was slicked back in an obvious attempt to seem professional, but it had only served to make him look smarmy. Fucking Gary.

“Glad to see you finally made it. Sit down so that we can get started.” Sawyer said, thankfully not mentioning his look. He was a fucking gangster for christ sake. Not some corporate douche bag.

She dimmed the lights and turned on a projection behind her. Five pictures not unlike the ones he received in his hit package earlier that week lined the projection, along with a map of Los Santos.

“Your main targets are these four.” She took a laser pointer out and indicated codenames: Brownman, Gavino, Vagabond, and JackP. They didn’t seem like much really, but he knew from experience those were the most deadly people you could encounter. The ones who didn’t seem like much. The underestimated ones. Well, with the exception of the Vagabond. None of the pictures were that great of quality. In fact if he was being honest they were kind of garbage. Vagabonds picture looked like a pixelated mess, pulled from an ancient camera on its last leg. In fact all of these pictures looked ancient. Probably from before they became a crew. 

“Their hacker, Gavino, does a pretty good job of covering their tracks. So none of these pictures are necessarily recent.” she said as if reading his mind. Creepy. “Which is why we want to take out the limbs of Ramsey’s operation before we take him out. He may be the brains, but his cohorts are the ones that make everything happen.” She pointed her laser at the dark haired man to the left of the line of pictures to indicate the Fakes leader.

“Our informant tells us that they are planning a heist next week at this bank.” The projection slid to the next slide, a picture of a massive bank filling the screen. Gary whistled low next to him. Michael had to agree. A bank of that magnitude? It had to have taken months of planning to even consider robbing this place. Ramsey wasn’t a pushover thats for sure. Either that or he was fucking crazy. Maybe both.

“This is where we will strike. We’ll send you the details of their plans when you land in Los Santos. Before the planned hit, use the time to set up shop on the pier. The paper work for the shell company has already been pushed through. As far as anyone is concerned you are inspectors sent by the company to make sure everything is being built up to code. I expect you two to be on the first plane out tomorrow morning.” With that she turned off the projection and returned to her desk.

Recognizing the dismissal for what it was Gary got up and made his way out of the office. Before Michael could leave however, he was stopped.

“Michael dear, stay a moment would you?” He froze in the doorway. Well that never bode well. He felt like a child being caught red handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to. To be fair he was always doing something he wasn’t supposed to, but being caught by Sawyer always ended in pain. Lots of it. 

A red flash drive slid across the desk. “I need you to deliver that for me while you are in Los Santos. Look in it and I will know. Box 394. Los Santos Airport. The key will be under codename: Sun.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice. He’d seen first hand the consequences of insubordination. Picking up the flash drive he put it in his back pocket for safekeeping. 

“And Michael? Happy hunting.” 

He nodded at her once before leaving. The whole meeting overall seemed like a fucking waste of time. He wasn’t about to say as much though. He wished he could just spend the rest of his time in Jersey at Kdin’s place bitching about it. But things were different now. He had to accept that. So instead he head back to his garage, preparing himself for the long trip ahead. Look out Los Santos, Michael Jones was on his way.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael very quickly decided a couple of different things when he landed in Los Santos. First, he hated the weather. It was hellish how hot it already was. Second, never again would he get on the same plane as Gary willingly. The man was nothing short of insufferable. From the way he prattled on about the hooker he boned the night before, to how he was going to stick it to Sawyer by making a name for himself in the city. By the end of the flight Michael was ready to shoot the man in the face and be done with it all.

“Gary, let me ask you something. Do you ever shut the fuck up?” he loudly stated as they were exiting the plane. A couple of flight attendants giggled in the background. If Michael thought Gary was insufferable then the girls on the plane probably found him downright unbearable. He had heckled them almost the entire flight, flirting grossly using terms like “sweetie” and “dear” like an old grandpa to try and earn their affections. Michael didn’t blame them in the least for their laughter.

“You know what Michael? One day you’re gonna appreciate what I do around here. No one appreciated the work I did in Jersey. This time it’s going to be different. I'm not gonna let your loud mouth ruin this for me.” Gary grunted.

By now they were standing at baggage claim. They weren’t stupid enough to bring weaponry on the plane. They had flown commercial in an attempt to remain inconspicuous. Ramsey’s reach in the city was vast. Any sort of shipment of weapons would be noticed. Very much like they had sent sleeper agents in small doses to infiltrate the city, weapons were handled in a similar fashion. It didn’t mean Michael liked it though. He felt naked without at least his back up weapons on him. He didn’t and probably never would understand how normal people just walked around weaponless. 

Grabbing his suit case off of the belt Michael rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say Gary. I got shit to do, so if you could kindly fuck off I’ll see you at the LS Bullseye.”

“What the fuck is the LS Bullseye?”

“The Los San- you know what? The fucking warehouse Gary. The one we are supposed to be _inspecting_.” He didn't wait for a response as he walked away. He had enough shit to worry about. The red flash drive was burning a hole in his pocket. The sooner he got rid of the damn thing the better. It was with that in mind that he approached the reception desk. The attendant looked up and smiled at him as he leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, I need to pick up an extra key for a locker I’ve booked please? I’ve just moved into town and my receptionist assured me it would be ready when I got here. Last name Sun.” He placed his fake I.D on the counter with an audible snap. The woman on the other side of the counter glanced at it briefly before smiling again.

“Of course Mr. Sun. Give me one moment.” she said, turning to her computer. Michael tried really hard not to be paranoid about that. That was the problem with the spy bullshit the Corpirate liked to pull. You never knew who was on your side until there was either an ally at your back or a knife in it.

Before he could get further into analyzing the situation to death however, a key was placed on the counter in front of him.

“Box 394 as requested. Have a wonderful day.”

Nodding at her he grabbed the key and tried to look like he wasn’t just plotting to kill her before she could kill him with an imaginary gun under the counter. He really needed a vacation. He was starting to sound like those crazy paranoid conspiracy theorists that lived on the internet. Dropping off the flash drive Michael finally made his way out of the airport. He wanted nothing more than to get to the warehouse and maybe catch a nap before he got to work on setting up base. Even if it meant seeing Gary sooner than he would have liked.

It wasn’t until he knocked into a blond woman on accident that he realized he wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going.

“Watch where you’re going asshole!” 

Charming.

“You first bitch!” he hollered back at her.

It wasn’t until a few seconds later that he froze. No one in this city just randomly knocked into someone in a spacious airport like this one. Checking his pockets he realized his wallet was missing. Motherfucker! Whirling around he scanned the crowd. People were milling about attempting to flag taxis down or waiting for their rides to pick them up from their flights. He saw no blond in the crowd. Attempting to remain calm he ran down the nearest attendant. 

“Please make sure my luggage gets sent to the address on the tag, yeah? Here.” He dug around the front pocket of his suit case, revealing another wallet. Throwing the man a hundred dollar bill from the second wallet with a secondary identity in it. He scrambled down the sidewalk. She couldn’t have gone far in the seconds it took for him to notice his missing shit. He noticed vaguely that she had at least the decency to leave his half empty pack of cigarettes alone. They still sat in his front pocket.

Rounding the corner of the building he saw a flash of blond hopping on a bus that was already pulling away from the airport. Could it have been any old blond just grabbing a ride? Sure. Was he willing to be it was her? Absolutely. No one in their right mind is that eager to jump on a public transit bus to go anywhere.

Shoving a poor unsuspecting man off his motorcycle he pulled out of the airport pick up lane like a bat out of hell. She wasn’t getting away with his wallet, if he had to break every traffic law in the book so be it. Narrowly avoiding traffic speeding down a highway in a city he knew nothing about was NOT how he wanted to spend his first day in Los Santos. But if that's how this thief wanted to play it, fine. 

As much as he wanted to cut off the bus on the highway, he knew he had to wait. He couldn't cause such a huge spectacle in the middle of traffic so early in the morning. It would compromise the whole mission. He would wait until the opportunity struck to make his move.

He ditched the bike as soon as the bus reached a light. They had long since entered the city, and Michael was intent in cutting her off before she could lose him in an alley somewhere. This bitch was toast. Shoving past pedestrians in the street he kept an eye on the opening door of the vehicle. Bingo. She stepped out of the bus, fiddling with her phone. 

With a snarl he broke out into a run, lunging at her as soon as he got close enough. Looking up with wide eyes she realized her mistake a second too late as they tumbled to the ground in a flailing heap. 

“Hand the wallet over bitch!” he screeched as he pinned her below him. 

Crystal blue eyes met furious brown as she snarled back at him. 

“Fuck off!”

He wasn't gonna hit her, but he didn't want her to know that. And boy did he want to. He was going to get the wallet back regardless of whether she handed it over willingly or not. His assault was halted however, when a bystander decided he was going to play hero.

“You think you're macho hitting a woman huh?” the gangly man in question said, grabbing him by the back of his collar. Big mistake.

Swinging around with the vengeance of a thousand suns Michael decked the guy square in the nose. Blood spurt everywhere as the guy stumbled backwards. The crowd that had formed around the spectacle quickly parted way for the man as he promptly fell on his ass.

Turning around to confront his thief he discovered to his great displeasure that she had taken the opportunity to take off down the street.

“Motherfucker! Get back here!” 

Michael wasn't a big guy, but what he did have to his advantage was speed. Before the crowd could decide that they were going to converge on him he took off after her.

He knew he was at a disadvantage despite his speed. As they zig zagged down random streets and in between buildings Michael weighed his options. He knew nothing about this city. The second he lost sight of her he knew he would never see his wallet again. If he let this chase go on any longer he was gonna lose out. But he’d been hopping fences and dodging trash cans since he was old enough to walk. She was gonna have to do better than that to lose him.

She had probably sensed this, as she abruptly turned into a dingy looking door at the end of the alleyway they were currently running down. Michael didn't even hesitate to give chase after her. 

Turns out if garbage cans and fences weren't gonna work, little blond thief thought a bunch of angry Chinese cooks would. He found himself dodging past waving pans and knives as he bolted through the kitchen. It was a mistake on her part to be sure. Because while Michael could only rely on his speed to catch her, this was only because he was weaponless. Grabbing a giant kitchen knife, he burst out of the double doors into a busy restaurant. 

She made the mistake of looking back at the sound of the doors slamming. A giant crash reverberated through the room. Food, glass, and liquid flew every which way as she crashed to the floor with the poor kid attempting to carry a tray of food twice his size. She tried desperately to get to her feet but Michael was quicker. Grabbing the back of her leg he flipped her over before she could even get up.

He sat on her waist to prevent her from getting away. She struggled under him, screeching obscenities. When she started trying to get at his face with her nails Michael decided he was done. He swung the kitchen knife down with as much force he could muster. Dead silence descended on the panicked restaurant.

Michael had slammed the kitchen knife down so hard that it had embedded itself into the wood floor, inches from the thief's face. Her eyes were wide as saucers.

“The. Fucking. Wallet.” He said quietly. There was only a short pause before she was reaching behind her to get into her back pocket. Snatching the wallet away he got off of her. Michael looked inside of it only briefly before shoving it back into his own pocket. 

“Thank you.” was all he said as he exit the restaurant.

He had walked down the street a few blocks before he realized he was shaking. He had to get out of here. He couldn't do this now. Not in such an unfamiliar place. But the feeling of panic was quickly overwhelming him. Grief washed over him in waves as he looked for a place of refuge to properly freak out. Ducking into an alley he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and quickly lit one. It was certainly a close call. Kdin had told him a million times….

He sought refuge behind a dumpster. Sliding down the wall of the alley he hugged his knees to his chest. Taking a few minutes to get his breathing under control he finally worked up the courage to take out the wallet. Opening it revealed a picture. 

A taller man smiled out at him from the wallet photo. He had his arm wrapped in a headlock around a younger Michael. He was laughing at the person taking the picture as Michael struggled to get out of the man's grip. Though Michael had obviously been trying to pretend to be mad, a quirk of his lips gave him away. The bright lights of the booths and amusement rides lit up the background of the photo in a kaleidoscope of colors. It was the only version of this picture that existed. He remembered like it was just yesterday…..

_“Oh lighten up Michael! It’s the Jersey Shore! Everybody loves the Jersey Shore!” Miles laughed._

_“You’re so full of shit man. Nobody actually likes this place. Everything is overpriced, the games are rigged, and it smells.” Michael griped._

_“Come on man, you can at least pretend to be excited we are here. We’re celebrating becoming “special friends!” after all” he joked at the younger man’s sulking._

_“Jesus! Don’t say it like that you idiot! It sounds creepy. Like you’re my old ass uncle or somethin’.” Michael pretended to gag._

_Slinging his arm around Michael’s neck in a headlock Miles leered at him from the side. “Well what am I supposed to call us? Butt buddies? Pelvic affiliates? Cum chums?”_

_“Oh MY god Miles. Shut up, just shut the fuck up! I am too sober for this. Let me go.” Michael mock punched Miles in the side but Miles wasn’t having any of it. He only gripped tighter._

_“No way! I’ve been waiting ages for this. Hey lady, can you take a picture of us?”_

The only copy of the picture had been on the phone Miles had, which was destroyed. The only reason Michael had a physical copy was because Miles was a sentimental bastard and had one printed out for him. Kdin had offered to have it scanned but...it just didn’t feel right. Having something so special to him copied. But maybe he should have let her. God.

Burying his head in between his knees he screwed his eyes shut. Michael was done dealing with the world for today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for the angst fest at the end of this chapter brought to you by: Michael Bolton-How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory warning for strong language in this chapter. Just a heads up. Cause I'm a polite motherfucker.

The rest of the week went by uneventful. A fact Michael was thankful for. He had spent most of it getting the main warehouse set up with a few of the crew already established in the city. Gary unsurprisingly had refused to help with most of the construction. He instead chose to spend most of his time on the phone establishing connections within the city. It was probably the only thing he was good for. Gary had a big mouth but a good eye for products. 

For awhile Michael could almost pretend he was just a normal guy with a normal job. He fell into a bit of a routine. Wake up, get dressed, have breakfast, go to work, come home, and go to bed. It was boring as shit by himself if he was honest. He tried to occupy his nights by learning the map Kdin had given him by heart. But even that wasn’t enough sometimes.

_“You ever heard of a dark zone Michael?”_

_They were sitting in Michael’s garage having a beer while Michael worked. Miles had always loved to watch Michael in his element, much to the annoyance of Michael himself._

_“You mean that annoying shit you use when you want to get on Kdin’s nerves?”_

_He was only half paying attention to the conversation. If he let his focus stray whenever Miles was around he would never get any work done. And it was kind of important to get his work done. They needed his bombs for the next heist they were planning later that month. He had deadlines to meet._

_“Yeah man. They’re fucking neat. You should let me show you sometime. You can get anywhere in the city undetected. There are blind spots everywhere. Places cameras can't or don’t reach, old city blocks the government never bothered to modernize, hell even places you can walk in the middle of the street without fear of being watched. No surveillance what so ever.” He waved his beer enthusiastically._

_“Yeah, cause I totally want to be walking around in blind spots so Kdin can’t find us when we are in deep shit.”_

_“Awh Michael, when do we ever get into deep shit?”_

_“You ALWAYS get us into deep shit Miles, just last wee- no! Hey! You’re going to blow us all up moron! This chemical is sensitive!” Michael tried to retort. Miles had chosen to cut Michael's rant short by wrapping an arm around his waist from behind. Resting his chin on Michael’s shoulder he smiled._

_“Don’t worry Michael, I know I may get us into a lot of shit, but I know you’ll always be there to pull us out of it.”_

Waking up with a gasp it took Michael a moment to remember where he was. He stumbled out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up. He wished he could say this wasn’t a normal occurrence for him. Unfortunately Michael was doomed to only a few hours of sleep at a time. Rubbing his hands down his face he looked at the clock on the wall. Four o’ clock. He groaned. It was going to be a long day.

 

The atmosphere was different when Michael walked in later that morning. Instead of the sounds of construction already underway, it was oddly quiet. A buzz of anticipation filled the air. Today was the day. No longer would these people have to work their shitty undercover jobs, or wake up at the crack of dawn to head to a construction site. 

This is what they were made for. What they lived for. There wasn't anything quite like seeing a Corpirate take over set in motion. Michael never got tired of seeing the ruthless efficiency in which these teams took out their enemies. Quick, brutal, and with no remorse. And often times the enemy never saw what hit them. 

A sleepy Matt had come to sit next to him outside the warehouse. It was cool enough to be outside comfortably without sweating your dick off for once. Probably one of the only benefits of the early morning hours. He wasn't much of a morning person to begin with, but he did on occasion enjoy the silence that came with the early hour. Despite the reasons he couldn’t seem to sleep in lately. No one else was usually around at this time, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise. There always seemed to be someone up his ass about wanting something lately. Michael where should I put this? What do you think about an armory here? Does this wiring look okay to you? Drugs cant be stored here, these aren’t the right conditions…. It was enough to make him want to jump off a bridge. 

He wasn't used to spearheading these types of missions. So any alone time he could get during the day was welcome. Matt being there had become an exception to the rule.

Some of the qualities he had always like about Matt were his intuition and intelligence. The man had always made at least an effort to figure shit out before coming to Michael for a solution. And he knew when to shut the hell up. Michael offered him a cigarette.

He had become fairly acquainted with the man over the course of the week. Matt was vague on what he actually did for the Corpirate, and Michael didn't care enough to ask. Besides, he had sort of made it a game to try and guess Matt’s job. His current theory was thief. Matt’s easy going and unassuming nature made him easier company to be around. Qualities thieves had to have to get close to targets. 

He wouldn't go as far as to say they were friends yet, but he did hate Matt less than everyone else here. 

“Ready for the big day boss?” the man tiredly grinned at him, taking the offering.

“Don't call me that.” Michael replied gruffly, choosing to ignore him in favor of looking out at the ocean. Another plus of the base being on the pier was the easy access to the beach. He had always secretly loved the beach.

They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, until Gary reared his ugly head out the door.

“You faggots done making out so we can get a move on?” he yelled at them from the entrance.

Michael had almost forgotten Gary was around. While Gary preferred to act like a bigger deal than he was, Michael liked to be on the ground getting his hands dirty with everyone else. He knew a thing or two about being an electrician, and it had come in handy on more than one occasion while setting up the warehouse. Because of this, contact with the obnoxious man had been minimal. Maybe that's why Michael's tolerance for him was at an all time low. He’d lost his built up resistance.

Before anyone had any time to react, with a satisfying thunk, Gary was on the ground clutching at his jaw. Michael had the satisfaction of seeing Gary’s head smack against the pavement as he fell.

“What the fuck you asshole!”

“Watch your fucking mouth Gary.” Michael snarled, ready to deck the guy in the face again.

It was no secret among the crew that they couldn't stand each other, so breaking his nose wouldn't be that big of a deal. Hell he would probably even get a round of applause. Just because he and Gary were equal rank didn't give Gary the right to say whatever he wanted. And Michael was done dealing with it.

“You sensitive piece of shit. What, you suddenly a hero to all the twinks now?” Gary grunted, attempting to get off the ground while simultaneously clutching his face. Michael saw red.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks before he could pull another punch however.

“Awh, is widdle Gary jealous? I know I have a pretty mouth but sorry, you're not my type.” Matt cooed peering down at him from over Michael's shoulder. God bless Matt Bragg. The expression on Gary’s face was priceless. He looked absolutely thunderous.

“Come along dear, we can’t keep the children waiting.” He clapped Michael on the back before stepping over Gary and into the warehouse. 

Michael stared after the man in shock for a moment before stepping in after him. Flexing his hand he smiled. It felt good to finally do that, even if he didn’t have the satisfaction of knocking Gary the fuck out. Miles would be proud. He almost wished it was caught on camera so he could re watch it later. He made a note to ask Kdin about glasses with a micro camera installed in the frames later. He bet she could pull something like that off.

Looking up he had noticed Matt had long since disappeared into the crowd of people forming in the foyer of the building. Glancing at his watch Michael knew it was time to get ready to leave. What he didn’t understand is why all eyes were on him, expectant expressions on each face he looked at. They had done this hundreds of times before. They all knew the plan, what the hell did they want from him? The staring was very quickly starting to creep him out. He couldn’t figure it out.

He stood there a second before his confused expression melted into one of horror. Miles. Miles used to do this shit. It was like a tradition at this point. Before every take over Miles used to get up and say some inspirational shit to get the crew pumped. It always ended in a battle cry as the crew left for the hunt. It was cheesy as hell but no one ever really cared. Michael always used to make fun of him and say he should have been a politician. 

This was the first time since….he hadn’t even _considered_ ….why were they all looking at _him_ now? What the hell was he supposed to say? How could _he_ possibly measure up to Miles in any way shape or form? The thought of taking the place of Miles in the crew made Michael's stomach roll. Why did he have to be reminded of the gaping hole in his chest at every turn? He was getting sick if it. The idea that they expected him to suddenly come up with something meaningful to say when he could barely find meaning in waking up every day was laughable.

For the first and last time in Michael’s life he was glad when Gary stumbled into the room. Michael could use the opportunity of his arrival to escape the sudden responsibility thrust upon him. It the perfect chance. He expected to throw Gary to the wolves and disappear into the crowd. What he wasn’t expecting was the tell tale click of a gun at his back.

“You think you can just do whatever the fuck you want huh? Like you’re some hot shit. God’s gift to man? Sawyer’s little pet?” 

Michael wanted to turn around and finish what he started a minute ago. The notion that Gary even had the balls to point a gun at him had him seeing red again. But he wasn’t keen on getting a bullet to the back either. He was forced to remain standing where he was. He briefly wondered if he could get away with killing the man if he claimed self defense. He was pretty sure everyone in the room could vouch for him.

“Don’t think I don't notice the favoritism you get. I told you it was gonna be different this time around Michael. You’re gonna start respecting me. Everyone is this room is under my control. Sawyer isn’t around to protect you, and Miles-” he was abruptly cut off. 

He wasn’t cut off by Matt this time, and surprisingly not by Michael either. No. This time Gary had stepped on a landmine much greater than that of an old wound. He was too busy playing yes man to people with power for too long. He had forgotten the rules. Every crew had them. Sometimes it differed from group to group. Unspoken rules every member followed without fail. The Corpirate in particular had a very strict set. It separate them from the low life, the scum, the bottom feeders of the underworld. 

Rule number one? You don’t fuck with the fallen.

The sound of thirty guns cocking at once wasn’t a sound Michael thought he’d ever be keen on hearing. Let alone staring down the barrels of said guns. Not in his line of work at least. But he couldn’t help but grin wildly at the sight. Because of those thirty guns, not a single one was pointing at him. 

Slowly turning around he cupped a hand to his ear. 

“What was that you were going to say Gary? I don’t think I caught that.” In what could only be described as a downright feral expression Michael tilted his head in inquiry. 

“By all fucking means, _please_ continue.”

A dark part of him that he hadn’t visit in a long time viciously wanted to watch Gary get riddled with bullets. If Michael thought the expression on Gary’s face earlier was priceless it had nothing on the one he had on now. All of the color had drained from his face, and his mouth hung slack. He looked positively stricken. He could almost see the man's brain on overdrive trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events.

He didn’t honestly think he was gonna get away with waving his gun around did he? After he had spent the week bossing everyone around and yelling on the phone? And on top of that to completely disregard a code that some would consider sacred? 

Not for the first time Michael wondered how the idiot before him had managed to live this long. Staring at Michael he seemed to realize there was no amount of pushing his authority around that was going to save him from this one. Though ironically it was also simultaneously the only thing that kept him alive. Sawyer didn’t appreciate mutiny. 

Slowly he held both hands up in surrender, letting his gun fall to the ground uselessly.

Who was the asshole that said there was no honor among thieves?

Pulling his own gun out Michael turned to the crowd behind him. It was moments like these that Michael lived for. Moments of clarity in their simplicity. The next sentence that passed his lips came natural in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Well now that that’s over with, who’s ready to go fuck some shit up?”

It wasn’t eloquent to say the least. It definitely wasn’t at the caliber of a Miles speech. But maybe it wasn’t even a Miles caliber speech they were looking for. If the battle cry that seemed to shake the whole room was any indication, it was enough for them. Because at the end of the day it was a sentence that they could all relate to. They were all just people who simply fucked shit up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all of the Miles/Michael angst guys, I can't seem to help myself. I assure you though that its imperative that you know where Michael has come from to understand where he is going. Next chapter is the whole reason I'm writing this fic at all, so I'm really excited to share it with you all! 
> 
> This chapters inspiration brought to you by: Glitter and Gold-Barns Courtney


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for this chapter brought to you by:  
> Coldplay and The Chainsmokers-Something Like This  
> The Chainsmokers-Fire  
> The Chainsmokers - Paris (LOUDPVCK Remix Audio)  
> Zara Larsson, MNEK-Never Forget You
> 
> (Can you tell I've been listening to a lot of The Chainsmokers? lol)

“Team leaders report.” Michael ordered clicking his earpiece on. He flipped his aviators down over his eyes. It was mid morning in downtown Los Santos. Traffic had just started to slow down as people settled into their work routines. It sort of amused Michael that less than an hour from now this very street was going to be a shit show. He picked up a nearby newspaper and flipped over to the comics. There was something soothing about the combination of comics and coffee. Maybe it was just the caffeine in general that was so soothing. Being up at four in the morning every other day really was starting to get old.

Despite that he was actually kind of excited to be front in center of the action again. It was going to feel good to actually be back in the thick of things. For awhile he had been benched, sentenced to production work for the crews on assignment along the coast. He guessed no one really trusted him to be out in the field for awhile. It didn't surprise him. The Corpirate didn't like what they couldn't control. And Michael had certainly been out of control a few months ago.

If anyone had asked him he couldn't honestly say he remembered much of that time really. The first mission he went on after losing Miles was a blur of murder and explosions. What he did vividly remember was waking up in the infirmary a week later. He was bruised from head to toe and had suffered a severe concussion. He had also flatlined twice, Kdin had told him. But that was all she would say about what actually happened. He made an educated guess that he didn’t try as hard to get clear of an explosion of his making as he should have.

It took a few missions before Sawyer made the call to take him off of the active duty roster. He supposed it was the huge collateral damage he was causing. More people were dying than needed to. More resources being used. Less than subtle means of completing missions were occurring more often. He was making a name for himself outside of the criminal world. That was a definite no-no in the Corpirate world. He was sort of surprised it took Sawyer that long to see the “problem child” he had suddenly become again. They hadn’t dealt with an out of control Michael in years. 

When he realized he wouldn't be getting assignments from the crew, he started going out on his own. He looked for fights wherever he could find them. Other gangs, his own crew, civilians, police, it didn't really matter to him. As long as he got to use his fists to quiet the grief.

For how long that went on Michael couldn’t say. It must have been a while. When he wasn’t fighting he just sort of….shut down. A lot of nights were spent alone in a haze of depression staring at the ceiling. When he did manage to sleep he was plagued with nightmares.

It took a stab wound and almost bleeding out again before Kdin decided she had enough.

_“What the fuck Michael?! Do you even realize what you’re doing to yourself?!”_

_She stomped into his garage with fire in her eyes. Before he even got a word in edgewise he was stumbling backwards. She shoved him so hard he almost fell over. His side felt like it was on fire. Blinking back stars from his vision he felt a well of annoyance rise at his sudden intruder. His wound hadn’t fully healed, and he winced at the sudden movement the contact had caused. The bruising that covered his body, a rainbow of purples and greens, weren't doing him any favors either._

_“Jesus woman, I just got stabbed is all! I’m not dead!”_

_Michael straightened and clutched his side. He really wasn’t interested in what she had to say. He kind of hoped she just said her piece and left. He looked up at her to say as much._

_Looking at her he realized her hair looked like it was longer. And it was a different color than it had been before. Hadn’t it been blond? And it looked like she had lost some weight. When was the last time he had seen her? Let alone talked to her? He tried to mentally count back the days before he realized he didn’t even know what day it was. Huh._

_She wasn’t impressed at his feeble attempt to deflect the topic._

_“JUST stabbed? Again, what the fuck are you doing man? You think this is how Miles would have wanted you to live your life? Almost dying every other week and never leaving this stupid garage? He’s gone Michael. You need to accept it and move on! This isn’t healthy for you! Look at this place! It’s a fucking mess!”_

_She stomped to the nearest table of tools and flipped it. Papers and various electronic parts scattered every which way in a tornado of chaos. When that was done she walked to the next table, doing the same thing. Along the way she kicked at the wrenches and chairs, everything clattering in a dramatic orchestra of anger. She tried to continue to her path of destruction across the whole garage, but she didn’t get far. Michael grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. Suddenly he was in her face. His own face was twisted in an enraged mask._

_“How fucking DARE you? Did you just come here to preach about my life choices? Don’t come in here pretending that you give a shit about me or my life. You and I both know you only hung around for him!” he emphasized the “him”, twisting it around so it came out in a condescending snarl. Words he knew were cruel continued to spill from his mouth._

_“You and I both know it’s YOUR fault he’s dead. You couldn’t do your job. Dark zones? Don’t make me fucking laugh. He died alone because you couldn’t find him.” She looked stricken. Good, he thought viciously. Let her hurt as much as he had._

_“You were always soooooo fucking jealous weren’t you? Of me and him? But he never looked at you that way did he? We both know how bad you wanted to be the one fucking him. You could never accept the fact that he was never gonna be yours!”_

_He was cut off when his head snapped to the side in a loud crack. She had slapped him with the hand opposite the one he had grabbed. The expression on her face went from stricken to livid. He looked away._

_“He was my FRIEND. Long before he was yours! He was my fucking friend you asshole! He is DEAD. He is GONE. And I’m left here trying to pick up the pieces. I’m never going to walk into this place and see his goofy ass smile again. I’m never going to hear a stupid pun over the coms from his stupid mouth ever again. He is never going to pick up carry out for me because he knows I’ve probably forgotten dinner again. I’m fucking here and he isn’t anymore.”_

_Her voice cracked to Michael’s utter horror. Looking up he saw tears freely streaming down her face. Guilt overwhelmed him and he kind of wanted to crawl in a hole and die from the shame._

_“I’m still here, stuck, watching the love of his life try and kill himself. He is dead and you’re not, but you might as well be. You’re a fucking walking corpse Michael. Look at yourself! Get your shit together. You’re my friend too. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you too. Please.” She yanked her arm away and crouched, folding in on herself. Sobs filled the room as she fell apart before his very eyes. He never felt more like a piece of shit._

_He had lost Miles, but he had forgotten that Miles wasn’t just his. He never was. Other people had lost a friend, someone important to them. Other people were suffering just like him. And here he was like a selfish jerk wallowing in self pity. Endangering everyone around him because he couldn’t deal. Because as much as he blamed other for what happened Michael knew it was his fault. He hurt Kdin. The person who had stood by him. Who was there every time he did something stupid to punish himself. Who still tried to talk to him even after he pushed her away. She deserved better than to have a shitty friend like him in her life._

_“Kdin…” He crouched next to her, his hand hesitantly hovering above her back. Not quite touching. “I’m sorry…...I’m sorry okay? I’ll stop. I’ll fucking stop okay? Jesus. Stop crying alright? You know I’m not good with tears. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”_

What she didn't know was that he hadn't stopped. Not really anyway. He stopped going out and getting into fights, sure. He wasn’t that much of an ass, to do it behind her back. But the pain the followed him everywhere never really went away either. He never really got his shit together like she wanted. He just hid his brokenness better. The monster in him still lurked just below the surface. A constant rolling anger ready to strike. Anger was easy. Anger was simple. Anger was his friend. His weapon. He didn't have anything else. He couldn’t handle anything else. He would unleash it on the world. Because that was much better than facing exactly how fucked up and shattered he was on the inside. He figured he would try and pretend though. He owed her that much at least.

He shook himself out of the dangerous rabbit hole he was about to leap into with his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to self reflect. He had to focus on the task at hand. Everything else was secondary. They were currently situated in a cafe patio down the street from the bank. It was imperative that they were far enough away that they wouldn't get tangled up in the police blockades when shit hit the fan. Being able to move as soon as the plan started was crucial to their success.

Matt thankfully didn't say anything when Michael positioned his chair at an angle away from the street. He really didn’t feel like explaining the nuances of dodging security cams to the guy. Besides, he had a feeling Matt already knew. So instead the easy going man slouched in the chair across from him, and had taken to casually fiddling with a napkin. If Michael didn’t know any better he would say that Matt looked absolutely bored.

The teams started to check in one by one.

“Danava Team in position.”

“Icarus Team in position.”

“Centaur Team in position.”

“Kamatayan Team in position.”

“Satori Team in position.”

He was proud of himself for not giggling like a child. He almost wished Kdin was here to appreciate his humor. A twitch of his lips was the only indication Michael was amused with the answers he was provided. As annoying as it was to be the boss, he did sometimes manage to find ways to make it fun.

Matt seemed to pick up on his amusement though, and Michael tried not to seem suspicious. He scrunched his eyebrows together as each team rattled off their name and status. Michael could almost see the gears working in Matt’s brain. So much so that he began to count down the seconds he thought it would take for the little metaphorical light bulb to pop up over the Matt’s head. 

Three….two….one….

He burst out in laughter when he finally got it.

“Seriously boss?” Matt’s eyes were lit up in amusement as he pursed his lips. Trying to hold back his laughter prevent him from saying anything else.

Maintaining a neutral expression Michael snapped his newspaper up to cover his face. He was glad for the aviators he had on. He didn’t need Matt doing any more of his creepy mentalist bullshit on him. 

“Don't fucking call me that.” was all he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

A few minutes passed in silence. Coms were quiet for the most part. Once in awhile someone would chime in giving a status update or asking a question. He glanced at his watch.

“Don't you have somewhere to be asshole?”

Matt shrugged. “I was put on Team Icarus. I have a little while.”

“The plan hinges on our target building being the right one. You think that's really where they’d place their sniper?” 

Matt had forgone playing with his napkin in favor of leaning back in his chair and looking at the sky. There was another moment of silence as he pondered the question.

“Had a friend once who used to be a sniper,” he said slowly, as if he was reluctant to even say that much, “I'm sure it's the building he would have chosen. That good enough for you?”

Another clue to the mystery of Matt. What kind of thief hung out with a sniper? Unless they were apart of a crew. But if Matt was here it meant either his crew wasn’t around anymore or it was someone in this particular crew. And that was if Michael's theory of Matt being a thief was even correct. Sawyer had put the teams together, Michael just had the pleasure of naming them. Even if 90% of this plan was sort of his to begin with. So Matt being on Team Icarus didn’t really allude to what he was doing here with Michael. It was the job of Icarus to keep an eye on the skies. Matt didn’t strike him as the type to be a sniper. Though there was more than one way to take out a helicopter he supposed. He made a note to give up the game and ask Matt after the assignment was over. 

It was then he saw a silver sports car drive by the cafe. Even with its normal color, it obviously outclassed every other car on the road currently. The windows were tinted, but Michael would bet money this was the car they were looking for. 

“It’s gonna have to be good enough. Our time table has just moved up.” Michael said, standing up abruptly. Getting on comms he immediately started handing out orders.

“The targets are being polite and showing up to the party early. Danava, keep the beach secure for extraction. Cut the police off to buy Satori time to find the van we are looking for. Let the police through on my mark. Kamatayan team on point with me. Meet up at the target building in ten flat. Team Centaur as soon as they enter the bank wait sixty second before opening fire. Don't let any of Ramsey’s crew come to their aid. Anyone suspicious tries to get close to them, take them out. Icarus, keep the skies clear of police back up. Nobody pop your head out of cover if you want to keep it on your shoulders. We’ll give you the all clear when Brownman is down.”

He left the cafe patio, looking over his shoulder to find Matt. The man was already up and walking around the corner in the opposite direction. It was kind of creepy how stealthy the man could be.

He was halfway to his destination before gunfire went off in his ear. He wasn't close enough to the bank that he could see what was happening. He had to rely on Team Satori, their tech team, to keep communications open. It was also their job to track down Gavino. But that was a low priority objective compared the other mission objectives.

Step one was to take out their air support. Brownman and Jack. With their eyes in the sky gone no amount of help from Gavino was going save Geoff and Vagabond from the hail of bullets on the ground. Not with Team Centaur and Team Danava there to make sure they get bottle necked into being stuck between Team Icarus and a police barricade. 

With at the air support down and his ground support unavailable, Gavino would fall soon after. No amount of running would prevent the Corpirate from finding him. Unless Team Satori could find the van he was inevitably hiding out in nearby. It would be a plus to kill them all in one go. 

It was his job with Kamatayan to take out Brownman and Jack. When they realize Ramsey and Vagabond need extraction the first person Jack will go for is Brownman. They will want to re position their ace shot to provide cover fire.

To kill two birds in one stone Michael and his team will descend on the building Brownman is on, kill him, and move onto Jack who will be there mid extraction via either helicopter or vehicle. 

They had contingencies for both, if the rocket launcher Michael was currently pulling out of a dumpster was any indication. The rocket launcher was reserved for the helicopter. But Michael had placed charges on the target building earlier. He would blow the building as soon as Jack rolled up in a car. What method Jack would choose remained to be seen.

“Satori team reporting in. We found the van. It’s empty.”

“Centaur reporting in, we’ve lit up the bank with suppressive fire. Please advise.”

“Kamatayan here, currently storming the castle. Sniper presence confirmed, but every door is barricaded. Having trouble getting to the roof, using small charges to blast our way through.”

“Danava here, police interference commenced, they are sending choppers your way Icarus.”

Michael was still five minutes out from his rendezvous with Kamatayan. Swinging the giant case that held his launcher around his shoulder he took off at a jog. He needed more time.

“Satori, fuck the van, work on hijacking police comms. I want to know what the fuck they are saying. If Gavino isn’t in the van it means he doesn't have the power to do his job effectively. If you can find what frequency they are communicating on take that over too. Danava, let the police through. We need that police barricade up before Centaur can let Ramsey and Vagabond esca-fuck lady! Move out of the way!” He shoulder checked a woman on the sidewalk.

Stumbling he almost ate concrete. People were screaming, running to and fro back and forth across the street. The whole block had descended in chaos as a police helicopter blew up nearby. Suddenly twenty cop cars flew by, their sirens piercing the air. Danava had let the police through. It seemed Icarus had started clearing the air as well.

“-own.” was the last of the sentence he caught when he tuned back into comms.

“Say again?” 

“Icarus here, we took out the police air support but we’re being pinned down by some of Ramsey’s crew. I repeat, choppers down.”

“Danava move to cover Icarus. Let Ramsey and Vagabond exit the building, the police are already there so they’ll have to either risk the police barricade or run to you as planned” he shouted. He had finally reached the target building. 

It was an abandoned office building that sat on the edge of the block. It's older make and abandoned status made an ideal spot for anyone looking for a clear view of the street and subsequent bank below.

Two of the crew were covering the entrance. They nodded at him as he strode by. One of them handed him a small device. His bombs were secured along key points of the building. The fact that they handed him his detonator meant that they had been set and were ready to go. Good. That meant shit was going to work like it was supposed to. Gunfire echoed from inside and he could hear shouting. 

“Satori reporting in. We’ve got the signal. Patching you through now.” was all the warning he got before he was assaulted by another group of unfamiliar voices in his ear.

“Geoff! Gavin and I are pinned down! We’ve got the roof door blocked but that’s not going to hold long. They’re using explosives of some kind to get through the barricades we set up.” a panicked voice said. Gavino was there?

He must have abandoned the van when he realized someone had found him. The police blocking off the street would have prevented him from simply driving away.

Meeting up with Brownman to await extraction was the only play. By now they had to know other players were on the field besides the police. He couldn't risk getting caught by his enemies walking around alone.

If Gavin was smart he would have taken his chances. Now they were both gonna die if Corpirate had a say about it. (He only knew one other person stupid enough to put his real name in his code name. Apparently there was another idiot in the world willing to chance it. Gavino? Jesus.) 

“Goddamnit, Jack whats your ETA? I needed you to pick them up yesterday!” another voice responded on the hijacked comms. Michael could only assume that was Ramsey.

He was climbing the stairs by two now. The abandoned building had no functioning elevators, and he had a couple of floors to go before he got to the roof. He could hear Kamatayan Team blasting the doors open above. More shots rang out as a firefight began.

“Ten minutes! I had to wait for the all clear, choppers were dropping like flies until Mica and her team found the culprits.” a low timber shot back. That was all he needed to know.

Flipping back to his own comms he shouted, “It’s a chopper people! Icarus is down, we are switching to plan B! Any personnel on the ground better clear the fuck out if you don't want to get squished with Ramsey and Vagabond. Satori, give me the signal when they secure a vehicle.” 

Before he could get an affirmative Kamatayan Team cut in. “Gavino down, I repeat Gavino down! They've surrendered.”

It was at that point he stepped through the charred remains of what was once a roof access door. It was weird hearing a voice in his ear repeating what he could hear right next to him. He silenced his comm to avoid confusion. If it wasn't a private channel he wouldn't hear it in his earpiece. He trust that his crew would follow through with the rest of the plan. He would check back in when he was done here. Looking around he saw that six of Kamatayan Team remained. The two guarding the door must have evacuated when he gave the order.

They were currently in the process of dragging two guys around his age out from behind an air conditioning unit. It wasn’t much of a fight really. One was bleeding heavily from a bullet in what appeared to be his side. It was kind of hard to tell with the blood being smeared everywhere as he feebly fought back. He was clearly fighting off shock, so the whole trying to escape thing clearly wasn’t happening for him. Michael recognized this one from the files he was given. Gavino. Or Gavin he supposed. Based off of the conversation he had heard earlier.

The other must have been Brownman then. He was clearly too concerned with his buddy to put up much of a fight himself. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of Gavin, though he remained tight lipped. He had to give the guy props for not begging for his life. A lesser man would have.

Michael resisted the urge to sigh. He had always hated these kinds of execution style murders. They were too messy. Too personal. Especially since last year. He didn't have time to dwell though. Their extraction was going to be here any minute now. And he couldn't risk them still being alive when Jack arrived.

The two Fakes were shoved on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Kamatayan surrounded them in a semi circle, waiting for Michael to finish the job. He took off his aviators and put them in his back pocket. He'd at least give them that courtesy. Pulling out his gun he aimed it at Gavin’s head. Killing the injured man first would be a mercy. He was clearly struggling to remain upright.

Before he could pull the trigger though, a small commotion broke out. Instead of staring down the barrel of his gun at Gavin, he was suddenly staring into a pair of dark eyes. He blinked in surprise.

Brownman had placed himself in front of Gavin. He was still kneeling with his hands behind his head, except now he was staring at Michael. His head was placed directly in Michael’s line of sight.

What struck him the most was the look he was being given. There was no anger, no fear. Just a fierce determination. It was clear he was trying to die first in an attempt to buy time for Jack to get here. To give his friend a chance at living.

_“Well what am I supposed to call us? Butt buddies? Pelvic affiliates? Cum chums?”_

Michael faltered. 

_“Miles god damnit! Come back! Don't do this!”_

_“I’m sorry Michael-”_

His eyes slid over to Gavin. He was in the original spot they had placed him. The man was currently attempting to plead with his friend. He was still bleeding out though, and had doubled over in an attempt to staunch the blood. How futile.

“Ray...get the hell out of the way…”

So his name was Ray…he didn't even acknowledge Gavin had said anything. He hadn't even broke eye contact with Michael.

“Please Ray, don’t do this you idiot...move…”

Michael saw the terror Gavin’s eyes as he looked at Ray. He could relate to that look. The memories of when he himself sported that look were fresh in his mind. A never ending nightmare.

Michael lowered his gun. He couldn’t be the guy that did this. He couldn’t watch this happen to someone else. He wouldn't let this happen to anybody else. Not while he was around.

“Stand down. We aren’t going to shoot them.” he barked at his team.

Kamatayan Team looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. But they didn't lower their weapons.

“Didn't you fucking hear me? We are aborting the mission.” 

He looked down at Ray. His passive expression had turned almost comical looking in its shock. It was sort of messed up that he had accepted death so easy. Hopefully his idiot boyfriend, or whatever he was, would talk sense into him about reckless behavior later. (Like he was one to talk really. But that wasn’t the point.) He frowned at Gavin. If the guy didn't bleed out that is. Unfortunately Michael couldn't help that one. 

“You don't have that authority.” he heard from his left. He looked over to see a gun being raised.

When Michael looked back at this moment later, he would reflect that it was as if everything had happened in slow motion.

Suddenly it was dark, and the air smelt of smoke. A fire blazed somewhere in the distance. He could hear sirens racing to the scene. He was back in the living nightmare. The one that plagued his sleep. The night that changed his life forever. Instead of standing on a rooftop he was in a docking area. The smell of the ocean and gunpowder filled his nose. It was cold outside. A small voice in the back if his head told him what he was seeing wasn't real, that it was in his head. He was having a flashback.

The voice was silenced when he saw Miles. His Miles. Every coherent thought fell away. Miles looked just the same as he remembered. Solid build, dark eyes, the scruff, the silly cowlick hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. He was kneeling in front of a man. He couldn't see the man's face or hear what was being said. Miles was grinning up at his assailant. Defiant as a gun was pointed at him. 

_NO._

Michael snapped his arm up and shot the man with the gun. He fell the to the ground dead. More people appeared, trying to get at Miles. They looked like dark shadows in the night. He spun around and shot them too. He wouldn’t let anyone get to Miles. He vaguely heard shots that weren't his being fired behind him. He didn't care. Miles was still kneeling in his spot. He would protect Miles with his life. Until every single person who meant him harm was dead.

Time seemed to slow further. After what seemed like an eternity the dark shadows finally stopped coming. He turned to Miles to say something, but Miles wasn't there anymore. Panic welled up inside him as he looked around. But he wasn't at the docks anymore either. Where was he? He didn't understand.

“Dude, you’re making it really fucking hard to keep my promises.” Matt’s voice filled his ear.

What?

A second passed where everything seemed to crash down on him. He had suddenly come back to reality. Miles wasn’t here. He was gone. He had been for a long time. Grief hit him like a freight train. How could he forget?

He looked up, trying to pinpoint where Matt’s voice was coming from. He was nowhere to be found. Which meant he was on a different rooftop. He must have covered Michael's six. Michael had the element of surprise, but he wasn't good enough to take six people on face to face with a lone gun.

That's right. He himself was on a rooftop. He looked around. The bodies of his crew surrounded him. His gun hung loosely from his hand, still smoking. Michael felt like he had whiplash. 

“Michael I need you to listen to me very carefully. After this I can't help you anymore do you understand? I can't keep my promise anymore. But we will talk okay? I'll find you. Somehow. I need you to get yourself out of there in the meantime. This channel won't be private in a few moments. Take care of yourself okay?” Matt’s voice in his ear suddenly cut off. 

Promise? What promise? How could he go from being in control to losing it in a matter of seconds?

Speaking of losing control.

“Holy shit Gavin, don't pass out on me now. Keep it together. You're gonna be alright you hear me? Keep it together.” Ray’s panicked voice traveled across the roof. When the shooting began he had apparently ran to Gavin's side to protect him.

Gavin was propped up against the air conditioning unit, obviously fighting to remain conscious.

Michael compartmentalized. Panic was threatening to overwhelm him. The disorientation of his mind telling him he was in one place but actually being in another was proving to be a bit much. But shutting down wasn't going to help anyone. They had to get off this roof. 

He flipped his comm off of silence. He heard nothing in his ear. Kamatayan must have got a message through regarding his betrayal before being taken out. He was completely shut off from any communications. Satori worked fast, he would give them that. 

“Hey!” He called out to the two.

Rays head snapped up and he looked over at Michael, almost as if he forgot Michael was even there. Michael jogged up to them, holding his hands up when Ray tensed. 

“I need your comm.” short and sweet. He didn't want to get into it with this guy. They didn't have time.

“What?” Ray seemed thrown off by this line of questioning.

“Your fucking comm man. Your earpiece? I need it. I know you've got one. We've been listening to you use it this whole time. I've been cut off from using mine.” at this Michael held his comm up so Ray could see what he was talking about. Maybe the guy was stupider than he gave him credit for.

“Hell no man! You aren't getting shit.”

“I just fucking saved your life asshole! We don't have time for this! Gimme the earpiece or we are all dead. Your evac won't have time to stick around, my people know he is coming!” Michael yelled. He had to get Ray to understand.

Before Ray could respond a bloody had reached out to Michael, revealing an earpiece. The guy who was currently dying had more sense than this guy apparently.

“Yolo right?” was all Gavin said, grinning at Ray before promptly passing out. Michael didn't understand the reference, but Ray had apparently gotten it. A pained look flit across his face.

He put the earpiece in and looked at Ray, “As soon as you get your asses on that helicopter stop using your comms unless you have to. They can hear you. I'll clear a path for your friends to get away.” 

Michael left Ray to his devices and quickly formulated his plan. When he was satisfied with it he turned Gavin’s earpiece on. His poor ear was immediately assaulted with loud yelling. The earpiece didn't quite fit his ear, but it would have to do.

“They aren't responding! Jac-”

“I know! I'm a minute out! You have to-”

“We can't! It's either risk the police barricade or turn around and get shot to shit by this rando-”

It sounded like three different people were talking. It was hard to say when they kept talking over each other. Michael couldn't let them turn around and run from the barricade. Danava would be waiting for them. He had to clear a path somehow. It was the weakest spot in his plan no one had accounted for. On the off chance Ramsey and Vagabond risked the police barricade and got through, they would be blocked by the blown building. But the building was only supposed to be blown up if Jack brought a car.

This was the plan B that Michael had mentioned earlier. What they didn't expect was that Michael would back stab them.

He quickly looked around. His case sat near the door he came through, untouched. Perfect. The helicopter had finally arrived. He paid them no mind. He could see that Ray had Gavin by the waist and was dragging him toward the evac. Michael pulled out the rocket launcher and booked it as fast as he could down the stairs. He needed to get clear.

When he came out on the ground level he spot the barricade the police had set up. It was a ways down the street, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Getting down on one knee he shot the launcher. Ignoring the kick back he shot two more times. Police cars and concrete flew everywhere as the explosives hit their marks. He could hear more panicked screaming as onlookers scrambled away from the chaos. A path had been cleared. Good. 

He didn't take the time to appreciate his work like he normally would have. Instead he ran down the street, opposite direction of the bank, as fast as he could. He didn't want to be anywhere near the building Ray and Gavin had just evacuated off of when he blew it up. He pretended to be a panicked civilian and blended into the crowd. He wasn't sure where any of his crew were.

When he was sure he was clear he spot the silver sports car zooming by. Police weren't far behind. But they would be soon. He hit the detonator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a huge thank you to [PerpetualMisperception](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualMisperception/pseuds/PerpetualMisperception) for helping me with working out this chapter. I am the kind of person of who just sits on a bunch of scenarios and never shares anything. The rooftop scene is actually a small scene I had rolling around in my head for a long time. I ran it by them one day so I could finally flesh it out and put the idea to rest, never to see the light of day again. They helped me work out the kinks and suddenly a whole story was born. I would have never thought in a million years I would commit to writing one of my ideas out and actually posting it. With their encouragement I did. Thanks man! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today we get a peak into what the guys are up to in the aftermath of last chapter.
> 
> This chapter's inspiration brought to you by: Viva la Vida-Coldplay (which always reminds me of FakeAH Geoff when I hear it)

“In other news, investigators are still looking into the botched robbery attempt that occurred nearly two weeks ago. Officials say that the notorious gang the Fake Achievement Hunter Crew otherwise known as the Fakes were involved in the heist that resulted in the deaths of dozens, civilian and police alike. Crews have been working tirelessly to clean up the debris of the fallen office building that had been destroyed while police were in pursuit of the suspects. We have Detective Kerry Shawcross here with some thoughts on where we go from here as a community…..”

The television shut off. Ray looked over at the door. Ryan stood in the doorway, the remote in his hand still raised. He smiled tiredly at him.

“How is he?” 

“Well he was awake until a couple of minutes ago. I had to threaten to take the tablet away to get him to rest.” 

Ray frowned. Typical Gavin, always pushing himself. Ryan sat down next to him and sighed. Ray took the opportunity to snuggle into his side. Ryan took it for the peace offering that it was and wrapped his arm around the smaller man. No one was really happy with Ray at the moment. But his actions on the roof hadn't really been discussed at length either. They were so busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on and taking care of Gavin that they had barely seen each other the past two weeks. They had moved to the penthouse for easier access when Gavin was stable and have been there ever since. 

It wasn’t that Ray hated the penthouse necessarily. It just wasn’t home for them. And while Jack thought it was risky for everyone to be at the penthouse Geoff had a good point. It must have taken a long time to plan this attack out. The fact that it was botched was going to throw this mysterious crew off their game. A huge fuck up like that would have a crew on their ass for awhile. They would know, since they were in the same boat now.

He had seen Geoff maybe twice in the past week alone. He was taking what happened the hardest. Jack was sticking close to his side to make sure he didn't kill himself from over work.

They sat in silence for awhile before Ray spoke.

“What do you think is going on?”

Ryan absentmindedly played with Ray’s hair as he thought about his answer. It was something he only really did with Ray when no one else was around.

“I think someone is making a play on us. Normally if you want to take over a city with big players already in it you would start from the ground up. Build a small crew and grow it little by little.”

“Like Geoff right?”

Ryan nodded. “But if a crew is already big and powerful, and well established, sometimes they will attempt a hostile takeover.”

“You think we have a traitor?”

“I'm almost positive we do. And Geoff is too. Whoever those guys were, they knew what we were going to do before we even did it. You don't coordinate an attack like that without having insider knowledge.”

Ray thought back to the roof. Had been turning that scene over and over in his head, considering all of the angles.

“That guy….he said they were listening in on our comms.” he said carefully. It was risky bringing that up. Everytime he or Gavin mentioned it, it always turned into an argument. Before Gavin or Ray could get a word in someone always talked over them. But Geoff and Jack weren't here. And Ray could always depend on Ryan to be calm and rational, even in the worst of times.

Ryan's hand paused in twirling Ray’s hair. There was another silence. Just as Ray was beginning to regret his decision to bring this up Ryan spoke.

“What else did he say?”

“That they knew Jack was coming. That Jack wouldn’t have time to stick around if we didn't haul ass. He said he would clear a path for you guys. He had a rocket launcher.” Ray furrowed his brow as he began to make connections. “I think the rocket launcher was meant for Jack.”

Ryan stood up and pulled his phone out. He didn't say anything to Ray as he began to type away. He seemed to dial a number and stalked to the back office. Clearly he didn't want Ray to overhear the conversation he was about to have. Ray rolled his eyes. If Ryan didn't catch him every time then he totally would have tried to eavesdrop. Instead Ray got up to check on Gavin.

He found Gavin back on his tablet again. He didn't look at all sorry to be caught with it. He did give Ray a brief wave as Ray walked in. Gavin looked considerably better. It was hard to believe that earlier last week Gavin had been dying in his arms. They had finally be able to remove the IV and some of the bandages around his abdomen. He was currently sporting the pjs Jack had gotten for him last Christmas. They had little stars all over them.

Caleb said if they had been any later Gavin might not have made it. It was touch and go for while. A week had passed before Gavin even woke up. Ray had never been so scared in his life. 

“Ryan will murder you if he catches you on that thing you know.”

“I can't find him Ray.” 

“Find who?”

“The bloke from the roof. I can't find him anywhere. It's like he disappeared off of the face of the bloody earth. Not a single security camera has caught him.” Gavin scowled at the tablet. 

“Maybe we just made him up. Some crazy figment of our imagination.” Ray joked, sitting on the edge of the bed at Gavin’s feet. Gavin frowned at that.

“Pretty sure I didn't imagine you being a wanker and trying to get yourself killed faster.” 

“Oh come on Gav. You would have done the same for me. You guys are all hypocrites!” Ray climbed up on the bed and wedged himself between Gavin and the wall in an attempt to appease the Brit.

Gavin didn't look at him. He was concentrating on the screen in front of him. A silent Gavin was never a good sign. Ray sighed.

“Gavin look at me.”

Gavin didn't respond. He continued flipping through security feeds around the city. Ray would have thought the man hadn't even heard him, but his white knuckled grip on the tablet gave his anger away.

Ray gently laid a hand on the tablet and pushed it down. Gavin stopped his search and instead glared at his knees.

“Gavin...you guys are important to me. We all know the risks of our jobs. One day one of us won't make it back home. I won't ever sit back and let someone take you from me. You're my bro. I always got your back. And you always got mine. Team lads?” he let his head rest on Gavin’s shoulder. 

He knew Gavin was a sucker for cuddles. If he had to play dirty to get at least one person to stop being mad at him in the house so be it.

Gavin sighed. Jackpot.

“Just...promise me you won't do that again yeah?” 

“You know I can't. Buuuut let's make a promise that if we ever get in a situation like that again we'll go down together in a blaze of glory. Assholes won't know what hit them! No one messes with X-Ray and Vav without gettin’ what's comin’ to them.” Ray made a sweeping gesture with his arm.

It was a small step in the right direction to get back in Gavin’s favor. The Brit had a small smile on his lips. He could never be mad at anyone for long. He knew it wasn't quite enough to get the subject to be dropped forever though. Jack, Geoff and Ryan still had things to say, he could tell by the way they looked at him. What a mess.

“What do you reckon is gonna happen to that guy?” 

“I dunno Gav. How does Geoff handle traitors? I don't think it's a whole lot different in other crews. I don't think he's gonna get an all expense paid trip to the Bahamas that's for sure.”  
Gavin frowned at that and picked his tablet back up, renewing his search. 

“I don't understand how he just disappeared. It's driving me mental! No one just drops off the map like that. Where could he bloody be?”

The answer was just as elusive to Ray as it was Gavin. No one had ever been able to hide from Gavin’s reach in the city. Not for long anyway. Hopefully Geoff would have some answers next time he came around the house. Ray was getting tired of being cooped up. The itch to move around and be out of the house was starting to get to him.

Almost as if on cue he could hear the elevator ding open. Ryan must have called Jack to relay the information Ray had given. Two sets of footsteps entered the house. He could hear Geoff speaking on the phone as Jack greeted Ryan in the hall. Looking over at Gavin to warn him about the tablet he grinned. The tablet was already inconspicuously missing. Sneaky.

Not a moment later Jack came into the room. He looked relieved to see Gavin up and seemingly shooting the shit with Ray. 

“Hey guys. How goes it?” He came over and kissed them both on the tops of their heads. 

“Oh you know, talking shop. Comparing near death experiences. The usual.” Ray casually replied. 

Jack's eyes tightened a little at that, but his smile didn't falter. Geoff and Ryan came in soon after. Ray frowned at Geoff’s appearance.

He looked tired in a way that he hadn't seen him in a long time. His hair was a disheveled mess, he had bags under his eyes, and Ray was fairly certain he was wearing the same shirt from the last time he had seen him. That was three days ago.

Geoff took the time to kiss each of the lads in greeting before falling into a chair beside Gavin’s bed. It was the first time they were all together in one room since the heist fiasco. He hadn't realized just how much he missed all of them being around at one time. 

Between being worried about Gavin and the anxiety of not being able to move freely about the city anymore, this was like a breath of fresh air for Ray. When they were all together he couldn't help but feel everything was going to be okay somehow.

“Alright. I realize that this may be hard for you guys, but I'm going to need you to try and identify your rooftop psycho.” Geoff said, running a hand down his face.

“What do you mean? Like describe him? I don't really remember all that much about him.” Ray said mildly. It was true that when he tried to think of the man, the only real thing he could remember were his expressions. How he had looked at him and Gavin. The surprise when Ray had moved in front of the gun. How his face twisted before deciding not to follow through with what was obviously his job. The way he contemplated the two of them. Making connections and thoughts Ray couldn't even begin to comprehend. Ray was so busy trying to make sure Gavin lived that any notable features were lost to him.

And when his crew decided they didn't like what he said? Ray suppressed a shudder. It was like an entirely different person took over the guy's body. He shot every person who even took a step towards him and Gavin. It was ruthless in a way he had only ever seen Ryan like when he was in Vagabond mode. It was ferocious and vicious the way he destroyed anyone he thought would be a threat to them. And the way he had jogged over to them after? Talking to them like he didn't just kill everyone on his own team? It didn't take a genius to know all of his marbles weren't there. 

Though Ray wasn't afraid to admit he was intrigued. Very intrigued.

“Anything he said, anything he did, what he looked like, any tattoos?” Jack supplied helpfully. Gavin shrugged.

“My memory is shoddy. There was just something off about the way he was lookin’ at us you know? One second he was gonna off us and the next he wasn't. And I think there might have been a sniper covering him. Some of the guys standing to his back just dropped.”

Geoff didn't seem at all satisfied with those answers. 

“What the hell do you mean your memory is shoddy? This is important! It's a matter of life and death! Someone almost dicked us in the ass and no one has anything useful to say about it?” 

Anger surged up in Ray. They've been basically gone the past two weeks and the first time they are all together again, it's another argument.

“Gee I don't fucking know Geoff, maybe I was too busy staring down the barrel of a gun to notice much. And if you hadn't noticed, Gavin was too busy trying to keep his guts from falling out.” 

Geoff pursed his lips. Ray almost winced. Okay maybe that was going too far, but his point still stood. Geoff was being a dick. 

“Look! I drew him!” Gavin held up his tablet innocently, cutting through the tension in the air. A stick figure with curly hair and glasses took up the screen. They all groaned in unison. 

“Somehow I don't think that's gonna end up being very useful Gav.” Jack said.

“You mentioned something about him saying he would cover us?” Ryan interjected calmly. 

“Yeah. He needed a comm so Gav gave him one and then he took his launcher and booked it out of the building like a bat outta hell.”

Jack nodded. “He was obviously covering his own ass. I bet he had some ulterior motive. Maybe he was paid to kill his crew. It would explain why he didn't give a crap about you guys. He wasn't being paid to kill you.”

Gavin shook his head. “I don't think it was anything like that. He got in a tiff with his crew over us.” When no one said anything about his tablet being out, Gavin stealthily began working on it again.

“Well regardless of his motivations, he is the only link we got as to who the hell is behind this.” Geoff slouched low in his chair.

“What about Mica’s team? Didn't they pin down the guys that were taking the police choppers out?”

Jack shrugged. “Some of them got away. The bodies we did manage to recover are John Does.”

The room descended in somber silence. They didn't have very much to go off of. 

“Aha!” Gavin shouted excitedly. Ray jumped in surprise at the sudden shout.

Gavin flipped his tablet around so that everyone in the room could see. A picture of a crowd popped up on the screen. It was a video that had yet to start again.

“When I couldn't find him on the cameras I reckoned he tried to skip town yeah? So then I started searching airport security. Nothing showed up. He didn't pop up at any other places he could go to skip town either. Which means he is still here. I've been looking for this bugger since the moment I woke up and he hasn't shown up ANYWHERE. Probably trying to lay low so he can leave without detection.”

Gavin wrinkled his nose in distaste. They could all see how irritated he was at not being able to find the guy.

“Anyway, I pulled camera footage from the day of the heist. Nothing popped up, but I did get a ping on a search engine I programmed to-” 

“Gavin. Today please.” Geoff interrupted, leaning forward in his chair to get a better look at the screen.

Gavin rolled his eyes. He pushed play. It looked like a cell phone stream someone had posted. The crowd was running around screaming on the street. They recognized it as the street the bank was on. Explosions and gunfire could be heard in the background. 

A voice in the background of the video filled the room. “We need that police barricade up before Centaur can let Ramsey and Vagabond esca-” the view of the street jerked forward as a woman was knocked into the person holding the camera. 

The same person talking before had turned to yell at the woman. “Fuck lady, move out of the way!” the camera swiveled over to the person shouting.

For a split second you could see the man's face. Aviators covered his eyes, but the rest of his face was distinguishable. He had wavy hair, and freckles dusted across his face. He was a little on the smaller side, but had a medium type build. He carried a large black case on his back. Gavin paused the video on the frame.

“Ray said he took a rocket launcher right?” Gavin grinned seemingly pleased with himself.

“We still don't know who he is, where he is, or who he works for. But it's a start.” Geoff clapped him on the shoulder. “Good job Gavin. We'll start circulating the picture.”

Ray could tell Geoff was getting ready to leave. It wasn't fair they got to come and go but he was basically on house arrest. He wasn't a child. And he loved Gavin, but he missed seeing Jack and Geoff around. Ryan was so busy communicating with them and playing body guard he might as well have been gone too.

“Wait. When was the last time you ate? Let's at least have dinner together.” Ray said. If he sounded a little desperate no one said anything about it. They had to know he was crawling out of his skin by now. And getting Gavin to stay in bed was getting harder by the day.

Geoff looked like he was about to protest. Jack nudged him in the side. They stared each other down before Geoff’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He made eye contact with Ryan and smiled. Jack hadn't lost a battle of wills yet. It helped that Geoff was kind of a push over.

“Alright, what kind of groceries do we got?”

Ryan shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to make a trip. But I didn’t want to go too far in case…” he trailed off and glanced at Ray and Gavin sitting on the bed. Ray resisted the urge to scream a little. He hated being treated like a weak link. He wasn’t a damsel in distress. He got that they had almost died, but the coddling was getting insufferable. One look at Gavin’s expression told him he was feeling the same way. As Ryan got ready to make a supply run, Ray prayed to whatever god was out there that this would blow over soon. There was only so much one man could take.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap this chapter fought me tooth and nail as I was writing it. Nothing worked the way I needed it to until I beat it into submission with the power of my will lol. Cant really argue with the results since its another longer chapter for you! We are back in business with Michael's POV. Enjoy!

The day was fast approaching when Michael had decided he was going to attempt to skip town. He realized very quickly that if he had tried to leave right away not only would he be caught, he would probably be dead not long after he got off whatever transport he used to get out. All eyes were on every boat, plane, car, or bus leaving the city. And if Sawyer by some miracle wasn't looking, he was certain the Fakes were. He knew he was in some deep shit.

He determined chances of survival were increased the longer he stayed off the radar. While surveillance was tight on the cameras leaving the city, it would be more relaxed the more time they spent looking for him. People made mistakes. Patience would grow thin. And he was less likely going to be caught if he placed himself where they least expected him to be. Which is how Michael found himself in the heart of Fake territory. The neighborhoods under their control seemed surprisingly civil all things considering.

He paced his tiny motel room and weighed his options. It was the third place he had moved to in the past two weeks. Staying in place was never an option when you were on the run. He was running dangerously low on supplies though. There was no way he was going to be able to get to his stash without being caught. It was on the other side of the city. He had paid his room off for the week, but food and other necessities were becoming scarce. It was Friday, and he hasn't planned on trying to leave until Sunday.

He only had vague idea of where he was going. For the first time in his life Michael didn't have anywhere to be. No obligations to meet to anybody. No one breathing down his neck about his life choices. It would almost be refreshing if two giant factions with vast resources didn't now want him dead. And who knows what kind of bounty was on his head on top of that.

Maybe he would try for Texas. It would be nice to visit the place Miles was born. At the very least so he could see why Miles always went on and on about it.

Baby steps. One thing at a time. First step was escaping. He was just going to have to chance going out. Leaving his room was definitely not something he wanted to do. When you weren't sure who was friend or foe everyone looked threatening. And in Michael's case, everyone was a foe at this point. Not for the first time Michael debated on calling Kdin. 

He threw that idea out the window as soon as it crossed his mind. Even if she was inclined to answer there was no way he would put her in danger. Sawyer had eyes everywhere. And there was a small part of him that was afraid she would actually throw him under the bus. It was one thing to know you were completely alone, but having it thrown in your face was something Michael didn't want to deal with.

Maybe it was better this way. Anyone who ever got to know Michael only ever got hurt anyway. Michael had no one to blame but himself.

He put his sneakers on and zipped up his hoodie. A black cat rubbed against his leg as he exit his room. The little creature had taken to bothering Michael whenever it could. The manager obviously didn't pay enough attention to it.

“Sorry Luca, I don't have time to shoot the shit with you.” He ignored the cat. It continued to follow him down the walkway towards the street. After yelling at the thing for the second time it finally stopped badgering him to be pet and slinked off with an indignant meow. He almost felt bad. Most nights when he couldn't sleep or woke from a nightmare he would sit outside and chainsmoke. Luca usually spent the evenings keeping him company. He didn't have time for that today.

Navigating the city and avoiding cameras took a lot of concentration. It was a tricky thing to keep count of his steps and blend in with crowds when there wasn't a blind spot he could use. And he hadn't been able to memorize the whole city by a large margin. He counted twenty paces down the sidewalk and stopped. Taking a giant step to the left he continued on his trek towards the store.

To most bystanders it would look like Michael was doing some sort of odd dance down the street. Wouldn't be the weirdest thing they'd seen in the city.

He sighed in relief when he finally got to the grocery store. It was a sad day when going to the grocery store meant risking your life. The little store was nestled on the outskirts of Fake territory. There wasn't anything particularly nice about it. He grimaced when he spotted old worn bullet holes on the outside of the building. Graffiti took up most of the side of the store. Michael paused to stare at it. 

Once upon a time it was probably a nice place to shop. Before this terrible city and the people in it brought it to ruin. He scowled. Wouldn't be the first thing this city ruined. Helping the rest of the Fakes get out alive might bite him in the ass later. But those two, Gavin and Ray, were going to need their crew at full strength if the Corporate were targeting them. It would have been stupid for Michael to go out of his way to protect them only to let the power players in their crew die. He wondered if Matt had got out alright. He shook his head. No use worrying about it now, he had places to be and things to do.

The inside of the store was surprisingly different from the outside of the place. It was clean and well kept. A cop was conversing with a cashier near the front of the store.

“Off duty Officer?” the cashier said cheerfully.

“Yep, just got off of patrol. Picking up some stuff before heading home. You know how it goes.” the officer responded.

The cashier looked up to notice Michael walking by and waved a hand in greeting. Michael resisted the urge to ignore the kid. Just because he was in this mess didn't give him the right to be a dick to people. He waved a hand awkwardly in a return greeting. The kid took this as an opportunity to start a conversation. 

“Can I help you find anyth-”

“No!” Michael yelled, causing both the cop and the cashier to jump in surprise. Michael recovered sheepishly, “I mean...uh… I know what I'm here for.”

He cringed. Well so much for not being a dick. Michael practically ran away toward the canned food aisle.He didn't want anything that would go bad right away. He wasn't sure when the next time he was going to be able to stop for a breather once he chanced leaving was going to be. It was going to be non stop travel for a while at the very least.

He picked up a can of soup and contemplated it. How much could he fit in a backpack without compromising space he needed for other things? Should he risk trying to get to his stash at this point? He needed supplies for at least the next five days….did he even have a can opener?

Michael lost himself in thought as he continued to make his way through the aisle. It wasn't until he turned a corner into the next aisle over that he was snapped from his thoughts. 

He was so busy looking down at the can in his hand he hadn't noticed someone walking out of the side of the aisle he was trying to get into. He connected with something warm and surprisingly solid. Michael dropped the can in his surprise. 

Annoyance and anger flashed through him. He couldn't even shop in peace without someone getting in his way. 

“Hey! Watch where the fuck you’re going!” he sneered up into a pair of shocked blue eyes.

Michael realized several things at once looking at this guy. The first thing Michael noticed about him was that he was tall. Not only that, but his build was absolutely solid. The guy didn't even take a step back when Michael ran into him. He wore a dark leather jacket and normal jeans. Oddly enough he kind of rocked the look. Even if the jacket was out of place in the seventy degree weather.

What bothered Michael the most was the expression he had on. He initially thought the shock was from being ran into. But the look quickly morphed from shock into a flash of…..recognition? Oh no.

Shit went bad so quick Michael didn't even have time to question the situation he was in. The guy suddenly had his gun out, and Michael hadn't even hesitated to pull his at the same time. Before the guy could get a say in establishing a hostage scenario Michael booked it back around the corner. 

“Stop!”

“Not on your life asshole!” 

Bullets rang out behind him as he skittered into the produce section. The little stands of fruits and vegetables exploded around him as bullets whizzed by his face. He briefly mourned his somewhat peaceful shopping experience before shooting back at his enemy. He regret running backwards into the store. Now the exit was being blocked by Mr. tall blond and menacing.

If he could skirt around the store and bait the guy into chasing him he would have a clear shot at the doors. With this in mind he took a deep breath and booked it from his cover. What he didn't anticipate was the mess that the floor around him had suddenly become. As soon as Michael got up to make a break for it he promptly slipped and face planted. Fruit carcass and juice covered the floor in a slippery wet mess.

Blondie seemed to pick up on his fall and made to give chase, but he also hadn't anticipated the floor. With a great crash his assailant took a sample stand down with him in a desperate attempt to right himself before he to slipped and fell. The store had exploded into utter chaos. The few people that had been in the store now screamed bloody murder as they tripped over each other trying to get out of the line of fire and out the door.

The guy was fast on his feet and recovered faster than Michael, and just as Michael was about to recover he was tackled back onto the ground. 

“You fucking pervert! Lemme go!” he kicked at the guy, but his legs were being pinned. The guy was practically sitting on him to subdue him.

To Michael's horror his gun was slammed out of his hand and skittered a few feet away. The guy was almost smug looking. He was bigger and stronger and knew it. He had Michael on the ropes. With both legs pinned and one arm being held above his head he only had one free arm left. But Michael wasn't done fighting yet. He desperately looked around before spotting something he could use.

Grabbing the can of peaches next to his head he whipped it around as hard as he could at the guys face. It was a testament to the man's reflexes that he saw the blow in time to almost dodge it. But he wasn't quite fast enough. The bottom of the can smacked into the side of his face with a satisfying thud.

With a loud “FUCK.” He rolled off of Michael, clutching the side of his face.

Ignoring the pain in his leg where he had landed awkwardly, Michael crawled to the next stand of produce. Grabbing his gun on the way, he shot his gun from cover. Judging from the amount of bullets coming back at him he wasn't doing much in the way of getting close to shooting the guy. He took a moment to take stock of his situation. 

By now he was covered head to toe in bits off every fruit and vegetable you could imagine. Glass shards where everywhere from the shattered displays. Someone had pulled a fire alarm and the sprinklers had gone off, adding to the sheer mess. And to Michael's absolute terror, he was out of bullets. He was going to have to get really creative if he wanted out of here alive.

He looked up and spotted some apples that had yet to be destroyed. If he couldn't have more bullets he would have to make due. Grabbing a couple of the apples he ran out of produce and into the frozen food section. If the splashing around was any indication, his pursuer had hopped out of cover to give chase.

Before the guy could lift his gun, Michael turned around. The shock at Michael's sudden turn was evident, but Michael didn't wait around for Mr. Blondie to recover. With as much force that he could muster he threw one of the apples straight at him. It zoomed out of his hand like an arrow and barely missed Mr. Blondie’s face. The man dived back into cover. Good.

Michael had done baseball in his youth. Back before he knew better than to have dreams. Before his family couldn’t afford it anymore. Who knew it would be serving him so well now? He waited for the guy to pop out of cover before chucking the other one. This one hit the back wall so hard it splat flat. He continued to run toward the front of the store when he could, chucking apples and whatever else he happened by along the way. Michael could have sworn they hit their mark at least a couple of times. He surmised the lack of shooting behind him meant his attacker was also out of or almost out of bullets. He felt particularly proud when an egg he threw hit the guy in the chest as they ran through the store.

He saw the doors and felt the relief of freedom flood through him. He sprinted faster, his freedom in sight. Pain flared from his leg but he ignored it. He had never felt so happy to leave a store.That is, until Gary idly stepped through the double doors, his firearm at the ready. This day had just gone from bad to worse. 

Skidding to a stop and almost falling on his face again Michael turned around and fled down the nearest aisle. Not fast enough to avoid detection it would seem. He heard Gary give the order to shoot to kill from the doors of the store. A hail of bullets rang from the front of the store, ripping everything in sight to shreds. The clatter of automatic rifles assailed his ears. They weren't fucking around apparently. He supposed stabbing a group of people in the back gave them motivation to kill a guy.

He scurried back to the back of the store. Hopping behind the meat counter he tried with no avail to come up with a plan. He noticed the cop he had seen earlier slumped on the floor not far from where he was sitting. He must have been calling for backup from behind the meat counter before being hit by the stray bullets that decimated the front of the store. Michael checked his body. He only had a taser and his handcuffs on him. No wonder the cop hadn’t jumped into the firefight. He didn’t even have a gun! What kind of idiot cop didn’t carry and off duty firearm with him? There was still hope though. He checked the taser. Michael groaned in annoyance. A bullet had rendered it useless. He was well and truly fucked. 

It wasn't until he caught a flash of blond out of the corner of his eye that he moved from his spot behind the counter. If he was going down this blond fuck was coming with him. What was with blonds trying to screw him over in this city anyway? He grabbed the handcuffs off of the cop.

A trail of bullets followed him when he ran, but no one made a move to where they thought he might be. They knew what a cornered Michael was capable of more than anyone. He dived behind the bakery stand where he saw the blond. He could hear Gary in the distance order his team to do a sweep of the store. They had a couple of minutes before they were caught.

“What the fuck? Get your own cover!” the man in question shoved at him. Michael snapped the handcuffs quickly in place before he had time to regret his decision. His shooter looked at the handcuffs in a mixture of shock and anger.

“No fucking way! You got me into this mess asshole, you're getting me out of it! If you so much as try and leave I'll cling to you like a leach and they'll shoot you dead with me.” Michael whispered furiously at him, getting into his personal space. He couldn’t give a fuck about what happened to him, as long as the guy who had put him in this mess paid. 

The blond regarded him furiously and yanked at the handcuffs before coming to a decision. 

“Give me that chocolate spread.”

“The what?” 

“The fucking hershey's chocolate spread next to you! Hurry up! We don't have all day!”

Michael handed him the spread curiously. His jaw fell open when the man opened it and promptly spread it across his face. He had to be fucking kidding. How had this become his life? Hysteria began to slip out as Michael watched him put extra chocolate around his eyes.

“Oh. My. _GOD_. I'm going to die. I'm going to die trying to get out of this god forsaken fucking grocery store next to a psycho obsessed with CHOCOLATE SPREAD. This is it! Thanks for _nothing_ you asshole.” Michael's face fell into his palms. All he wanted was food for the week.

“ _Shut up_ , I'm trying to come up with a plan!” Mr. Blondie said.

He could hear footsteps two aisles down. Maybe if Michael could stall long enough they would actually get here in time to save the day. If they weren’t caught that is.

“Listen. We don’t really have any options, we are just going to have to fight our way out.” Chocolate spread guy said to Michael.

This guy couldn’t be serious. Michael liked impossible odds, but even he had to admit this was a little crazy. Though, to be fair he was talking to a grown man with chocolate all over his face in the middle of a grocery store showdown. On top of that they were handcuffed. They were a little past crazy. 

“Oh fucking genius play. Fight our way out. Ten plus armed men versus me and you. And how are we supposed to do that Augustus Gloop? Shoot them with our guns?” Michael waved his gun around for emphasis. They both knew they were out of bullets at this point.

“We don't have guns, but they do. Let’s just...borrow one.” Mr.Blondie replied, pulling out a knife from a sheath under his pant leg. 

The look in his eyes took on a glint that sent a shiver down Michael’s spine. This guy really was a psycho. Their eyes locked for a moment. He couldn’t really explain it, but the murderous glint didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have. In fact, Michael was sure he was having some sort of episode, because the crazy look in this guy’s eyes somehow made him feel safe.

A bullet whizzed dangerously close to his face. They had been discovered. Michael ducked as the wood from the bakery stand splintered. It wasn’t going to cover them for long.

“Alright! Alright! I’ll follow your lead!” 

Blondie nodded and ducked out of cover, his blade a blur of motion in an instant. Before Michael could even blink, an enemy was crumpling to the ground a few feet away with a knife in his chest. With an angry cry another crew member lifted his rifle to shoot. 

In their cockiness they weren’t even using cover. They thought their numbers would protect them. The crew under Gary was keeping a respectful distance until they knew Michael had no play. But they assumed they had the upper hand. They thought Michael was just by himself. Whatever information they got must have told them Michael was shooting at someone in the store. That he had killed his assailant and was trying to escape. They were dead wrong.

Blondie pulled the knife from the Corpirate thug and immediately used to it slice the throat of the second one. Michael tried not to gag in disgust as they were covered in blood. He bent down to grab the second gun but before he could his frenemy kicked it away.

“What the fuck asshole? What am I supposed to use to defend myself?”

“Like I would give you a weapon. You want a gun so you can what? Shoot me in the back? Just stay out of the way.” the guy yelled back at him.

If they weren’t currently being surrounded Michael would have attacked the guy he was so pissed.  
He was just supposed to stand back and hope he didn’t get shot? Hell no. If Michael was going down he was taking as many as he could with him.

By now they had made some progress through the store. He rifled through his options. He didn't have a gun or a weapon. But he wasn't a demolitions expert for nothing. If he couldn't have a weapon he would make one. 

He quickly looked around. They were currently taking cover behind a giant grilling display. Perfect. He grabbed a can of gasoline and some bottles of beer from the display. Michael popped a bottle cap off and dumped the beer out and replaced it with gasoline. Now he just needed a wick of some sort. His own shirt was too wet with junk to be of use. It was then he spotted grill cleaning rags on the shelf behind them. 

His new companion was so preoccupied with shooting he didn’t notice what Michael was up to until a live molotov flew over his shoulder.

He looked back, his face mildly impressed as a giant fireball set the thugs on fire in the background. Michael lifted his chin defiantly, daring the man to try and take the bottles away from him. He thankfully didn't say anything as they pushed forward in the store. They fell into a sort of rhythm as they left a trail of destruction in their wake. It was almost unnatural how well they worked together when they weren’t trying to kill each other. 

It was like they had an unspoken agreement. Michael wouldn’t set his ass on fire and in return Michael wouldn’t get a bullet to the face. And if Michael grabbed some flour on their way his psycho pseudo bodyguard didn’t say anything about it.

It didn't take long for them to reach the front of the store, where the rest of the gang awaited.

“Hey Gary! How about not being a douche for one in your life and just letting me though huh? For old times sake?” Michael yelled out from behind cover.

By answer, he was rewarded with gunfire aimed at where they thought he was crouched.

“Not feeling chatty Gary? Bet it’s that rogaine you been trying out. It leaked into your brain and now you can’t form coherent sentences!” 

“How about you don’t piss off the guys who outnumber and outgun us?” his compatriot hissed beside him.

He grinned in satisfaction when he heard Gary’s annoyed roar. Despite the circumstances it was always a good day when he could piss Gary off. His fun was cut short when they heard sirens in the distance.They didn’t have a whole lot of time. He turned to his would be killer. 

“I’m going to throw these molotovs, and when I do,” he paused and grabbed at the bag of flour he had picked up, “I’m going to need you to shoot the ever loving shit out of this okay? I’m going to toss it in the air above them.” 

The guy eyeballed the bag dubiously but nodded. Michael lit the bottles and paused before adding, “And when you shoot it? Do me a favor and duck.”

The ensuing mayhem was a work of art. The molotovs exploded, and immediately Michael tossed the bag of flour over and ducked. Without fail, he heard the automatic weapon rattle off next to him. The flour burst open above the flames. 

Instantaneously the fire swelled, eating up the flour in the air like a hungry demon. The resulting explosion cleared the whole front of the store in a fiery inferno. The screams of the thugs on fire mixed with the crackling of the flames as the fire began to take to the rest of the store. Grabbing Blondies hand they booked it out of the store before the fire blocked their exit off. And not a moment too soon. He let go of his companion's hand as they ducked into an alley a few blocks away. Fire trucks and police sped by one after another to the store. They both bent over gasping for air. 

Michael pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked their hands.

“Alright. It’s been real...it’s been good...but it’s not been real good. Keep the cuffs. It’ll be a nice memento for you to think of me by.” Michael gasped before attempting to limp away.

Apparently ignoring his leg was no longer going to be an option. Adrenaline pumped through his heart as he attempted to limp his way out of the alley. A large arm darted around his waist as he limped by. He flailed as he lost his balance. Seriously? This is how the guy wanted to play it? He would’ve thought the guy had at least a little bit of decency to think to part ways amicably.

“Hey! Let me fucking go! I got your ass out of there!” 

“Shut. Up. I will seriously murder you where you stand.”

Michael wasn’t impressed with the threats. You could only almost die so many times in one day before your tolerance went out the window. He continued to struggle but the arm around his waist wasn’t budging.

“Let me go you fucking chocotectic bastard! I’m done with this shit! I have a goddamn city to leave!” 

They fell to the ground before Michael heard the clatter of the handcuffs being pulled out out. There weren’t any peaches to save him this time. The man wrestled the handcuffs back onto him. He struggled until the cold blade of a knife pressed against his neck.

“I wasn’t kidding about that murdering part.” Fiery blue eyes bore into him. 

This was enough for Michael to submit. At least for now. He didn’t say anything as his captor stole a car and shoved him in the passenger seat. He didn’t feel like being stabbed again. Not after what he liked to call “The Great Kdin Explosion”. He felt a pang of regret. Well. At least if he got stabbed now he wouldn’t have to worry about getting yelled at. Michael realized that his promise to her was sort of moot at this point.

It wasn’t until they pulled into a garage that Michael realized with dawning horror just where they had gone. Michael had spent this whole time thinking Blondie was just some random bounty hunter. He was dealing with a Fake. And not just any Fake. A fake with access to a penthouse.

As soon as the car parked Michael tried to book it out of the car. He didn’t get far when a hand grabbed the back of his collar.

“Oh hell no! This isn’t happening. Listen here you piece of shit. Augustus! C’mon man! I thought we were friends! Hey!”

He could tell he was working on his captors last nerve. His jaw was clenched and he wasn’t looking at Michael. Good, Michael would annoy him to death if it meant not getting to where he thought they were going. He struggled wildly before being thrown into the elevator that was called.

He quickly set about pushing every button on the console he could. He was yanked back by his waist, an angry snarl piercing the tiny cabin.

“Are you fucking two years old or a fucking criminal? Have some fucking dignity! Holy shit I have had just about enough of you. Ten FUCKING floors you pushed. If I didn’t need you for information I would throw you out the nearest window and take sick pleasure in watching you flatten.”

“That's fucking rich coming from you, you chocoholic fucking psycho! What? Do you get off on that shit? Is that what's wrong with you? Did your mother not love you enough as a child?”

The struggle and screaming match continued through each and every floor. Each time a person made to step on the elevator they were almost bowled over by Michael, and by the seventh floor that they had to stop on he was being held in a headlock. By the time they got to the top apartment, Michael was being half dragged by the back of his collar again. It was all he could do to remain upright, as his leg had chosen to give out on him twice on the elevator ride itself  
He wasn’t even paying attention to the apartment they walked in, he was so busy trying to scramble back into the elevator.

“Stop. Struggling. You. Fuck.” Blondie snarled.

“Fuck you! You suburban dad looking ass muncher!” Michael screeched back.

“Ryan……………?” A shocked British voice cut in, the question clear in his tone. 

“So your name is Ryan? What a fucking lame name.” He was promptly dropped on his ass for his insult.

“Gavin! What the fuck! You can’t go saying my name like that!” Ryan snarled.

“Wot, wait! Wait! Are you okay? What the bloody hell happened to you?!”

Michael recognized that stupid voice and ignored the relief in his chest. So the bastard had survived. At least he managed to do something right for once.

He turned around and looked up into four pairs of shocked eyes. He realized that he was looking up at each and every member of the Fakes he had tried to kill. With a dawning realization he looked at Ryan. The only one he couldn’t recognize was him. There was only one person missing from the core group of Fakes. Without the mask no one knew what he looked like. No wonder he hid his face in the store. Well shit. He’d just spend the better part of his evening handcuffed to none other than the Vagabond himself.

Michael sneered, prickling at all of the eyes suddenly on him.

They must have looked like hell. The were covered head to toe in blood, flour, egg, syrup and every fruit and vegetable he could imagine. They also reeked of smoke and trash. He didn't think it was possible to be slimy and sticky at the same time..

“I’ll tell you what happened, your chocolate loving freaky murder mutt almost got us annihilated in a fucking grocery store. You take away his fucking sex doll? Is that why he is in a pissy mood?”

In hindsight, Michael realized he probably deserved the punch from Ryan that knocked him the hell out. At least he went out swinging. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't listen to much music while writing this chapter (maybe that's why I struggled so much haha) but I think the grocery store scene in particular matches well with the beat of Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen.


	7. Chapter 7

He wasn't really sure how to react to Jack. They were sitting in what appeared to be an empty conference room. He had underestimated how large this penthouse actually was. When Michael looked around he had absolutely no information to gather. There wasn't even a poster on the wall to give him anything to go off of. 

The whole room was barren save the long wooden table and set of chairs. When he woke up he was already in here, his right hand handcuffed to the arm of the chair he occupied. It was a rickety old thing. He resisted the urge to shift. He really needed a shower. His jaw hurt where Ryan punched him, his neck hurt from the awkward angle he had been unconscious in, and his leg throbbed. He was pretty sure he twisted his knee when he fell.

Needless to say he wasn't in a good mood. And this silent treatment interrogation tactic Jack was trying to pull on him had started to grate on his nerves a bit. The guy sat across from him, not even acknowledging Michael's presence.

He was simply tapping away at his phone. Well that was alright with Michael. He had no where in particular to be now. He could wait all day. He said nothing as he began to idly yank his hand away from the chair it was cuffed to. The whole chair creaked at the jerking chain pulling at the arm.

It seemed like forever before he heard a sigh. Jack placed his phone down on the table and finally looked at Michael. 

“What’s your name?”

Michael snorted. 

“Really? That's what you're starting with?”

Jack shrugged. The man looked like he had already come to his conclusions and was simply doing this as a courtesy.

The act might be believable if Michael didn't already know it was bullshit. They didn't have shit. On him, who he used to work for, or what their enemy was up to. And Michael might have saved a couple of them, but he wasn't about to throw his old employers under the bus. Whatever happened on that roof was on him. He was the fucked up one. Only he could pay for his choices. No amount of torture or interrogation was going to change that.

“So what should I call you? Traitor? Turncoat? Weasel?” 

Michael only shrugged. “You can call me whatever the hell you want dude. Carrot top, Curly Q, Ronald McDonald. Take your pick.”

“Alright. Let's switch gears here. So what brings you to Los Santos?” 

Michael stared at him unimpressed.

“Really? Nothing? You got nothing for us? Would you rather talk to Vagabond?”

Michael outright rolled his eyes at that.

“Oh. You mean Ryan? Yeah sure. Bring him right in. I’d like to see that nice purple bruise taking up one half of his face. I bet it's set in by now. Who knew peaches could hurt so bad.”

Jack looked amused at Michael's snarky response.

He leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him. 

“You seem to misunderstand something. It's alright. Most people do until they learn the hard way. Ryan and the Vagabond? They may be the same person, but they are definitely not the same mind. You met Ryan. You haven't met the Vagabond. And let me tell you, any enemy of the Vagabond never lives to brag about meeting him.”

“Oh wouldn't that be special. Getting the VIP treatment from the legend himself. Though I'm curious. Isn't he the one that usually does this sort of thing anyway?” Jack smirked at this. Michael didn't know what was so funny to be honest. It was (mostly) a genuine question. “No offense Jackie, but why the hell are you even here? Isn't being a glorified chauffeur more up your alley? Shouldn't you be doing other things? Maybe sucking your boss's dick?” Michael leaned back in his chair. 

He tried to make it look nonchalant, but he was honestly doing it so he had an excuse to stretch out his bad leg to see if it straightened. It did. Barely. That and he wanted to see how much the chair would give if he put his weight on it. Not as much on the back as the sides.

He studied Jack's face. He had to give the guy credit. His poker face was pretty good. But mentioning Ramsey had struck a nerve. Michael could tell by the way Jack's posture slightly shifted. Where they actually together? That wasn't a possibility his old crew had considered. He couldn't help but compare the Fakes second in command to Sawyer, the Corpirate second in command.

For two people holding the same position they couldn't be more different. Where Sawyer was crisp coldness Jack was chill nonchalance. Nothing was ever out of place on Sawyer, from her posture to her choice in clothing. It was clean and rigid. 

As Michael looked Jack over he couldn't help but smirk at the stark contrast. Hawaiian pattern button down? No one else could pull that one off. Hell, Jack barely pulled it off himself. The beard was a bit impressive though. Michael kind of liked it. A little. He was sure as hell Miles would have loved it. Michael grimaced.

Jack tried another tactic.

“Let's cut the shit. Why did you do what you did? What is it you're after? Why throw your life away?” 

Michael sighed. He could be on a train out of this city by now. He was exhausted and he could feel his patience running thin already. His headache wasn't helping things. They would have him sitting here for hours if he gave them an inch. He wasn't in the mood to fuck around anymore. He laid his head on the table. Ryan could come in here and torture him all he wanted. He couldn't really find it in himself to care. Jack seemed to recognize his body language for the shutdown that it was. 

“You're threatening my crew. I know exactly what kind of person you are, despite what anyone else thinks. If you bring harm to anyone in this penthouse, Ryan will be the least of your concerns.” 

Jack's voice had turned soft. The scariest part was that he didn't even say it with menace. Just a certainty that left no room for doubt. It wasn't a threat, just a statement of fact in Jack's eyes. 

Michael didn't bother responding. He just stared at the wall. The click of the door was the only indication Jack had left.

A long time passed. He had started to count the minutes to pass the time. He counted to half an hour before he quit. Michael wasn't under any impression that he was alone. He was sure they were watching his every move. He continued jerking at his arm as he mulled over his situation some. He had to escape somehow. While he was right in that they didn't have any info on him, Michael begrudgingly admit he was sorely lacking info as well. But he did find a couple of things interesting. 

First, why send Jack? The easiest way to intimidate someone was sending in arguably one of the biggest nightmares of Los Santos. That would be Vagabond. But use him as a threat instead of just using him from the start? Was it because his cover was blown?

Second, Jack asked a bunch of kind of stupid questions in Michael's opinion. Sure you didn't want to come off as too desperate for information, he got that part. But his name? His motivations? Fair questions, but not questions he would be asking that's for sure. He would have thought that “Who do you work for?” or even a “What is your boss planning?” Would be more likely questions.

It was almost like they cared more about wanting to get to know Michael as a person than their impending dooms. It didn't make any sense. Why wasn't he dead or being tortured by now?

He closed his eyes again. He was way too tired to give a crap about any of this. He adjusted his posture and winced. This chair wasn't doing him any favors. You would think being a giant criminal organization they could afford better furniture. Maybe this was the torture. Subject him to sitting in this chair for hours. Bunch of assholes. Though….he might be able to make an escape work out if he played his cards right.

Furious whispering could be heard outside the door. Michael still had his head against the table. He tilted his head slightly. Where they arguing? Before he could follow that line of thinking the whispering abruptly cut off and the door swung open again. He didn't look up to see who it was until they sat in the chair across from him.

Michael's eyebrows shot up. Geoff Ramsey himself sat there, looking unimpressed and agitated to even be here. Unlike Jack, who had tried his best to remain emotionless, Geoff wore everything on his face. Simply because he could. The picture in Geoff’s file didn't really do him justice. From the tattoos down to the mustache, everything about him exuded power.

Staring into the eyes of other criminals obviously didn't faze him. He's been doing it for a hell of a lot longer than anyone else in this penthouse, Michael was almost sure. There was a certain way a criminal carried himself when they've lived long enough in the industry to know a thing or two. They started at each other for a moment. 

Michael couldn't even begin to think about what kind of impression he was giving Geoff while they stared each other down. Michael sat up.

“You’ve put me in a tough spot kid.”

He didn't say anything. Ramsey continued, obviously expecting this sort of response.

“On the one hand, you didn't kill two of my men. That's pretty much the only reason you're sitting here right now dude. But on the other hand, there is a crew running around my city that shouldn't be there. So you see my predicament. I got an organization to run kid, I don't have time to play babysitter to a traitor.”

Michael wasn't exactly sure why Ramsey was even bothering to spell this out for him. Michael obviously wasn't going to say anything and he was a liability to keep around. The obvious choice was to kill him. Not that he would go down without a fight.

Ramsey paused, waiting for him to respond. Michael had nothing to say. The whole conversation was pointless. He leaned into the side of the chair again. It creaked.

“You're not gonna say anything? Typical. Beat a dog to half an inch of its life and it'll bite, but it will still stay loyal to its owner. That's just what you are isn't it kid? A dog who's lost its bite and who's too dumb to realize it can't go back to its master to beg for scraps.”

A familiar feeling surged through him. The anger wrapped around him like an old friend. It had been awhile since he embraced it. Since he let the monster inside rear its ugly head. There was nothing and no one holding him back now. He’d show Ramsey a fucking dog. Michael saw red.

So much for playing his cards right.

He gripped the arm he was cuffed to and shoved as hard as he could. The chair splintered in protest before giving way. The arm had completely ripped off and Michael stood, sending the chair clattering to the floor. The door burst open but Michael ignored it. He hopped on the table and lunged at Ramsey. The man slid back in his seat, causing Michael to fall short on his attack. Before Michael could get a punch off he was being thrown to the side by an unknown force behind him. Michael stumbled at his suddenly thrown off balance and winced. He accidentally put all of his weight on his leg to try and remain balanced.

Michael looked up to see none other than Ryan positioning himself between Ramsey. He took satisfaction at the dark bruise that had indeed begun to form on his face. The bastard had taken a shower since they last saw each other, and he wore a hoodie and dark pants. He had forgone the mask, probably figuring there was no point since Michael had seen his face already.

The pain snapped him out of his haze of anger. He whipped around toward the now wide open door. Ryan had been so concerned about keeping Ramsey safe that he hadn’t considered where he had tossed Michael. Taking the opportunity that had presented itself Michael made a break for it.

“JACK!” Ryan roared from behind him. But Jack was too slow, Michael was out the door before he could slam the door shut.

He didn’t think twice about hobbling up the nearest set of stairs as fast as he could. He didn’t even pay attention to the fact that no one was chasing him. Michael found himself in a giant living room, one he vaguely remembered seeing the night Ryan dumped him here. That meant the elevators were nearby. A ding had him whipping around. There! The elevator doors slid open and Michael ran inside them, breathing a sigh of relief when the doors slid shut. It wasn’t until he realized the elevator wasn’t moving that he knew he had made a mistake. He groaned and let his head fall back onto the wall behind him.

Fucking Gavin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter inspired by: Taylor Swift-I Knew Your Were Trouble


	8. Chapter 8

If Michael wasn't sure a person could die of boredom he was certain of it now. He couldn't even pace like a proper prisoner. He was pretty sure his latest attempt to escape had completely fucked his knee. 

Climbing the stairs had done a number on it that was for certain. Whatever got stretched was for sure torn now. It was an ugly purple and twice it's normal size. He could barely get his crusty pant leg over it to take a look when he chanced it. It didn't feel broken, but Michael nearly fell over when he tried to test it by putting some weight on it.

Ryan had dragged him from the elevator, and Michael had made a valiant effort at making that as miserable as possible for the guy. He squirmed as much as possible to get as much of his grocery store filth on Ryan as humanly possible.

_“Yeah bet you don't like that. Well neither do I asshole. You enjoy that shower you are about to go take for me. Since you guys apparently want me smell up the place with my new hobo odor! At least Ryan gets to shower. Since I'm chopped liver and all”_

He didn't regret it, even if Ryan tossed him back in the room harder than strictly necessary. 

By Michael's estimation, that was a couple of days ago. It was hard to say being locked in a conference room with no windows. He did manage to catch a glimpse of what time of day it might have been the few times a day he was allowed to go to the bathroom via an escort.

It was usually Jack who brought him food and lead him to a small bathroom across the hall he hadn't noticed before. Sometimes it was Ryan that was on babysitting duty.

Michael was in the middle of trying to piece together their rotation schedule. He was attempting to time the intervals in which they brought him food and took him out, but the process was slow going. He took a drink from the water bottle he was brought earlier with his food.

He did however notice something was off about the schedule today...a subtle shift in the way that Ryan had hurried in here and dropped the food off before leaving again. It was more urgent than usual. Michael wouldn't even have noticed had he not already been paying close attention. Was something bad happening on the outside? Was he leaving to go somewhere? 

The room had gone fuzzy. Suddenly Michael couldn't think straight. He frowned and tried to stand, but his movements were sluggish. He looked at the water bottle sitting at innocently on the table in front of him. It didn't appear to be tampered with….he ended up getting out of his chair and sitting on the floor next to the table before he fell over and hurt himself.

_The stars twinkled in the sky._

_“You ever think that one day you’ll leave the life behind Michael?”_

_They were sitting in on the beach waiting for Kdin to get done setting up surveillance around the area. Miles was smoking a cigarette. Michael didn’t smoke himself, but since he started hanging around Miles he found himself drawn to the smell._

_Sometimes when he went to bed at night he could smell it on his clothes. It reminded him of Miles. Over the weeks that they had started hanging out he had become really fond of the guy. It was why Michael stopped complaining whenever Miles smoked around him. He would never tell the man of his sudden love for the smell for fear of creeping him out._

_It was dark, and the waves lapped gently at their feet, the tide calm that evening. They had rolled up their pants and taken off their shoes to dig their feet into the sand._

_Michael laughed at the question._

_“What, you think the Corpirate offers a 401k plan? Like I'm gonna grow old and retire one day and live out the rest of my life in some shack somewhere?”_

_Miles laughed along with Michael and playfully pushed him._

_“Nah man, like, before that. You could set up a garage somewhere and fix shit instead of blowing it up for a living. You know, cars or something. I think you'd be good at it.”_

_Michael's smile faded a little as he thought the question over._

_“This is the only thing I'm good for Miles. Starting a business? Living life like a normal civilian? Losers like me would never be able to do that. All I’m good for is destroying things. Not building them up.”_

_Miles fell silent. Michael furrowed his brow and leaned over, trying to catch his eye._

_“What’s wrong? Why the sudden questions?”_

_Miles didn't answer, he just took a drag of his cigarette and continued to stare out at the ocean._

_“What the hell man? What’s got you so mad this time?” Michael grabbed his shoulder to try and get Miles to turn around. Miles shrugged off his hand and stood up._

_“You want to know what's wrong? You! You could be anything you wanted Michael! You're so goddamned smart! But you just can't see it! Instead you want to piss your life away taking orders from people who don't give a shit about you! You're so much more than people give you credit for and you just sit there and think you aren't worth a damn!”_

_Michael stood up and shoved at Miles. He stumbled a couple of steps back, obviously not expecting Michael to shove him._

_“What the fuck? Who gave you the right to butt into my life and try and tell me what I can and can't be? Who the hell gave you that right huh? You think just because I let you hang around it means that I give a shit about what you think? Are you looking down on me or something? You think what I do isn't good enough? Well fuck you and your holier than thou opinions Miles! You can shove it up you ass!”_

_Miles recovered and looked a Michael furiously._

_“Fucking hell Michael! For someone so smart why are you so goddamn dense sometimes?”_

_Miles threw his cigarette down and ran his hand through his hair, clear frustration marring his features. He paced a couple of times, trying to express the words he needed to say to Michael to get his point across._

_Before Michael could formulate a response Miles was in his space. His heart stuttered at the sudden proximity. He was confused and mad at the same time. It was a combination Michael wasn't used to feeling. Miles had a tendency to do that to him. Flip his feelings inside out and all around._

_Miles looked into his eyes, searching for something. For what Michael wasn't sure, but he couldn't help but marvel at how nice his eyes looked when they were focused solely on him._

_Hands cupped the sides of his face and soft lips brushed against his. Michael froze. The kiss wasn't unpleasant. It was actually kind of nice all things considering. A warm breeze tickled at Michael's bare legs. He could smell the fresh cigarette smoke on Miles, and the cologne he liked to use. Miles pulled away and searched his face again. Michael didn't know how to react. His senses were being overloaded. His heart felt like it was going a mile a minute and his face felt like it was on fire. He didn't know what to do, so he did what he knew how. He lashed out. Michael punched Miles in the face and ran away._

A loud clang startled Michael awake. He hadn't even realized he fell asleep. He had been drugged. He quickly sat up. It was terrible mistake, the room spun. Michael gagged and almost threw up. He never did well with sedatives. He put his head in between his knees to try and stave off the nausea.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, he woke up. Mission abort. Mission abort! Gavin let's go!” 

“Hold on, I've almost got it installed!”

“I told you that dosage was too low! Operation:Prison Break is bust man!”

“Well we didn't very well didn't want to kill ‘em did we? This was the dose Lindsay suggested.”

Something clicked and tightened snug around the space above his ankle. He about jumped out of his skin in shock. He really must have been out of it if he hadn't realized there was something there. He shook his head to try and dissipate the dizziness. He looked up at the familiar voices. Gavin and Ray stood on the other side of the room. The table sat between him and them. Ray had his hand on Gavin's shoulder, like he had grabbed him and hauled him back.

Michael looked down at his leg in horror. He lifted his pant leg up to reveal a large black band covered in hard black plastic wrapped around the space just above his ankle. A black box was attached to the side with a blinking green light, but there weren't other markings on the device. Michael clawed at it desperately, trying to pry the thing off.

“What the fuck did you do asshole?” his voice cracked from disuse. He tried to get up from the floor so he could walk around the table and grab Gavin by the shirt but ended up doing an odd half stumble half hop. He made it to the chair he had been sitting in before and leaned on it like a crutch before he could fall over and embarrass himself. He glanced at the door. It was shut. He wondered if it was unlocked.

Gavin raised his hand in a placating gesture. He took Michael’s momentary distraction as an opportunity to speak.

“I made it. The monitor. It's got a radius of 10 feet around the nearest tether.” He held up his arm. A watch matching the monitor was around his wrist.

“Took me a couple of days to modify it from its original purpose. If you leave the radius of the tether you’ll get shocked at intervals until you get done in. Nasty bit of business, but I don't think Ray and I were going to get anywhere with those knobs without some sort of backup on the chance that you tried to run again.” 

Gavin looked genuinely sorry about this fact. Lowering his arm he slowly sat down in on a chair on the other side of the table.

Michael stopped trying to claw at the device and glowered at Gavin. It was hard to use the chair to maintain balance and bend down to mess with the monitor at the same time anyway. The room was still kind of spinning. He digested the information he had just been given. Words couldn’t describe the amount of anger he was feeling.

“Dude. Ryan is gonna kill us for tricking him into leaving, you know that right? He is gonna come back and straight up shoot us.” Ray started pacing behind Gavin, keeping an eye on Michael.

“He won't shoot us. Aren't you tired of them treating us like glass? They can be miffed all they want. They've been nothing but prats the past week anyway.” 

Ray paused. He looked between Michael and Gavin before sighing. 

“Alright. So what do we do now? We got the device on him. The was the original plan. He woke up before we could leave. Talk about _awwwwkward_.”

Michael was getting really irritated. If it was one thing he didn't like, it was people talking about him when he was sitting right there. He was half tempted to try for the door again. They mentioned they didn't expect him to wake this early. It was probably safe to assume it's unlocked.

“Well. How about you just get this fucking death device off and let me be on my way? That would just be real _swell of you_.” Michael interrupted sneering.

Ray wrinkled his nose at the prospect of getting near Michael. “No offense dude, but you _reek_.”

Gavin stared at him for a moment before his expression brightened. He continued on like Ray hadn't interrupted.

“We’re being knobs aren't we? Prattling on while you must be dying for a shower. My name is Gavin by the way, and this is Ray.” He gestured up at Ray.

Gavin was really beginning to creep Michael out. He was acting like they didn't already know he knew their names. What was with the good guy act? Where they doing some good cop bad cop routine? Ray made a pretty shitty bad cop if that was the case. He looked like he was more worried about the prospect of getting near Michael's dirty clothes than Michael himself. He glanced at the door again.

“Listen man, I can see that look on your face. Your plotting the best way to get the hell out as quick as possible. I see you eyeballing that door.” Ray piped in when it was obvious Michael wasn't interested in speaking to them.

Michael tried to hide his surprise. Was he being that obvious? He didn't think he had been. He’d underestimated their intelligence. Then again, there was no one bleeding out and there weren't any guns involved in this to provide a distraction.

Gavin nodded at Ray. “Ray has the best eyes of any of us. We know what it's like you know. Being underestimated. Outnumbered and outgunned? We would be plotting our escape too. But before you try any funny business, this watch is connected to my pulse. If my pulse stops the monitor will ensure yours does too. It would be kind of counterproductive to try and off us though wouldn’t it? I don't think you want to hurt us. Not really.”

Well wasn't that just fucking great. He was well and truly trapped. He opted to completely ignore Gavin’s last sentence. He would admit to nothing. These people wouldn’t break him, no matter what crazy technique they tried to use. He needed to get out. He needed to get out NOW.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Get this thing off me! What the hell? You think coming in here and playing nice after basically taking my free will is going to change anything? Like I'm going to suddenly be your fucking _best mate?_ ” he said the last two words in a mocking accent before continuing, “Just because you offered me a shower and told me your names? Which I already knew?” 

Gavin looked even more guilty, if that was even possible at this point. Michael almost felt a little bad. But the implications of what this meant for him was significant. He hadn't seen the outside world in ages, and any chance he had at having a free life just went out the window. It was a lot to take in. The weight pressing on his ankle was suffocating. He had to get out. He had to leave. He needed a cigarette. He needed Miles. He had to get out. He needed to get the pressure on his ankle off. He panicked. He had to get out NOW. He was a kid again, cowering in the closet. No exit path. He was trapped.

Michael flung the chair he was using as a crutch backwards. It slammed against the wall before toppling over, sending other chairs skidding every which way. Gavin leaped up in surprise, and Ray grabbed his arm and pulled him back a safe distance. Michael could care less. He grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it. It was a heavy thing, and it tipped over with a giant crash, sending the chairs on the other side careening.

He grabbed the chair nearest to him and threw it out of his way, and continued to do so for every one that stood in his path. The walls we closing in on him. They were squeezing the air from his lungs. The room was suffocating him. He had to get out. They needed to let him out. He needed to leave. 

His leg gave out.

He fell.

He desperately tried to get up and get to the door. His leg wouldn’t support him. He fell again. He resorted to using his good leg to hold his weight and he got up on his hands and knees. He tried to drag himself, but the walls were closing in too fast. He had no way out.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. _No_!

He smacked it away and flipped into a sitting position, scrambling backwards until he hit a wall. His mind was going a million miles an hour. He felt like he was vibrating out of his skin. It felt like there was ice running through his veins. It was like he was under water desperately swimming for a surface he knew he would never reach. He ducked his head between his legs, and wrapped his hands on the back of his neck. He was spiraling with no way out. Time was moving slow and fast at the same time. He could hear a voice, but his mind was going to fast to latch on to anything. He was free falling.

“Hey...dude. Listen. Hey….”

A soft voice caressed his ear.

“Deep breaths man... I know you can do it. Come on, breath with me. One...two…”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t breathe.

“Concentrate on my voice. I know you can do it dude. One..two...three…”

He took a deep breath.

“There we go man. See? You just gotta chill man. Chill. Four...five...six”

He shuddered. He could feel his muscles uncoiling slowly. The walls spread back out.

“Relax. Eight...nine...ten…”

He loosened his grip, inch by inch. Warmth returned to his body. The calming voice slowly got louder.

“I know it’s a shit situation man...just….you gotta let us help you out. This is the only way. Can you hear me? You still breathin’... uh whatever your name is?

He felt like he had just ran a marathon. He could hear Ray to his right, but couldn’t really remember how he got there. A minute passed before he mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that dude?”

Michael paused another minute before clearing his throat. He really really just wanted them to leave so he could wallow in embarrassment and self pity before erasing this memory from existence. He could hear Gavin some feet away fidgeting about anxiously. They weren’t going to leave unless he threw them a bone. 

He peaked out from under his arm, suppressing the urge to shove Ray away. He knew Ray was close, but hadn’t realized just how close.

“I said, how ‘bout that shower? My own fumes are driving me to insanity. Clearly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you notice a lot of repetition in this chapter it's intentional. Michael has some shit going on in his head that he isn't good at dealing with.
> 
> A good song to listen to while reading the Miles/Michael flashback is This Magic Moment-Ben E King & The Drifters
> 
> 'Till next time!
> 
> P.s: No chairs were actually hurt in this writing of this chapter. Michael is done destroying them I swear! (Maybe.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was by far one of my favorite chapters to write. Surprisingly I don't have any music to pair with this chapter, as I didn't write it while listening to anything.

The shower was amazing, simply put. It was one of the bigger bathrooms he had seen. Much to Ray's dismay, they had to help him hobble up the stairs to get to the nearest bathroom. The one downstairs he had been allowed to use in his imprisonment didn’t have a shower built into it. Michael tried to suppress the sensation of his skin crawling at the close contact as they took each of his arms over their shoulder. As if he wasn't embarrassed enough. He didn't need to shove them away and fall down the stairs and break his neck. 

As tempting as it was at this point. Neither of them had mentioned his outburst, but he was almost certain they would be talking about it the first chance they got. He sort of wondered where the rest of the guys were. Ray had mentioned Ryan leaving.

He had to sit in the shower and let the hot water run down his back. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole as he worked through what had just happened. There was no way they didn't think he was crazy now. He couldn't even begin to do wonder about what they thought about his loss of control. He tried so hard to just function day to day, the fact that the momentary display of weakness happened in front of an enemy was enough to make Michael want to die of shame.

He was an adult for christ's sake. He shouldn't be having these lapses. What Gavin and Ray thought was still undecidedly clear. They simply lead him to the bathroom and told him they would be right outside. They must have figured he needed space. As much as they could give anyway.

He could deal with physical pain. He could deal with torture. He had for years. But for some reason his mind betrayed him at every turn. He really just needed to get his shit together and man up. A stupid monitor wasn't going to change the fact that he was Michael goddamn Jones. He'd cut his own foot off if he had to in order to get away. He just...needed to bide his time.

He took a deep breath, enjoying the steam of the shower. He hadn't realized how much cuts and bruises he had accumulated in the past week. His knee was the worst, but the minor aches and pains certainly added up. Nothing was as flexible. It felt like his bones were fused together at the joints. When he was properly rinsed of his filth he looked up at the soaps and shampoos.

He wasn't really impressed with the choices of soap he had available. Most of it seemed really old. Did they not update any of their shit around here? Everything was either old and worn or completely dated. It was a nice place as far as penthouses go, but it was kind of obvious they didn't spend time here other than to run their business. 

The last thing he wanted was to smell like any of them, but he held onto the hope that they had moved onto a different brand since they stocked the place last. Michael felt like an old man trying to maneuver the shower without falling on his face. There were a couple of close calls but he managed. Each time he had to catch himself Gavin called out to ask if he was alright. The guy was camped outside the door. 

“Don't worry about me. Just plotting to drown myself in this stupid sink.” Michael replied when he almost beefed it stepping out of the shower. 

He eyeballed his pile of clothes. He wasn't really interested in putting them back on, but he wasn't about to ask Gavin for anything either. He resigned himself to his fate and picked up his pants. Before he could attempt to put them on Gavin piped up.

“Oh, by the way, I put some clothes into the closet there for you.”

He glared the door suspiciously. Where they watching him?

“And for the record, I'm not a pervert. I just heard the shower turn off and you stumbling. Figured you'd rather burn those clothes rather than put ‘em back on. I also put something else in there for you that you might find useful.” Michael raised an eyebrow at this.

“You were so sure I was gonna come up here, you put clothes in here to be prepared? What else did you put in here? Condoms in case you wanna fuck my life up some more?” sarcasm dripped in Michael's tone. 

He hopped over to the bathroom closet and opened the door. What he was met with had him blinking in shock. Michael wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he certainly hadn't been expecting that. 

The closet was filled with typical bathroom supplies. On the second shelf there was a pile of soft looking jogging pants and a tee shirt. A black hoodie that looked vaguely familiar lay folded neatly on top. That wasn't what caught his attention though. A pair of crutches leaned up against the wall next to the shelves. 

“Sorry about the leg….Ray and I...we haven't…” Gavin paused. Michael wished he could see what kind of expression he was making on the other side of the door. It was a lot easier to tell when someone was lying when you could see their face. He didn't sound insincere, but that didn't mean anything. He reached out to grab on of the crutches, examining them as Gavin continued.

“We wanted to talk to you sooner. But it's been...complicated.” Gavin said lamely.

There were a lot of implications with what he was and wasn't saying. He was clearly struggling with what he could and couldn't say to Michael. Which was dumb. Why say anything at all? They were all so weird. Why wouldn't they just ask what they really wanted to know? He wouldn’t answer, but at least it would make more sense than this nice nonsense.

Silence reigned as Gavin didn't continue further. Ray must be nearby somewhere, he could hear the footsteps and clattering toward the direction of the living room. He carefully got dressed. But instead of opening the door right away he sat on the floor and leaned against the door. It was time to get answers of his own.

“Why am I not dead yet?”

Straight to the point. He had no use for beating around the bush. Michael only hoped Gavin played along. It was a delicate game they were playing. Gavin had to know answering meant taking a risk.

“......like Geoff said. You didn't kill us.” Gavin seemed to settle on the safest answer.

“So if you aren't going to kill me right away what do you want?”

There was silence on the other side of the door. Michael tried to be patient with waiting for an answer. 

“The answer depends.” Gavin said slowly.

Michael nodded to himself. So they weren't all in agreement with what they should do with him. They were still going to kill him he was sure. It was just a matter of when and how.

“I'm not supposed to be up here am I? Do they even know this monitor exists?” Michael asked. Gavin’s answer was a little quicker this time.

“Not strictly speaking, no? And maybe.” 

There was a lull in questions as they each pondered what was said. Gavin’s voice drifted through the door again.

“How does your leg feel?” 

Michael glanced at it and quickly decided that was a bad idea. Gavin mentioning it pointed out the fact that there was something even wrong with it, and the throbbing he had been managing to avoid thinking about was suddenly the only thing he could focus on.

“Thanks for the reminder asshole.” was the only answer he was willing to give on that one.

“Sorry, we can get some ice for it later.”

He let his head rest on the door and closed his eyes.

“Why did you decide not to kill us?” Gavin asked. It was the most serious he had ever heard the man. 

Michael thought about that question himself quite a bit these last two weeks. It wasn't something he liked to think about all that much, but it was a constant in his mind. He turned the scene over and over in his head, looking at it from every angle. As much as he knew what the answer might be and what it meant for Michael, it was a subject he wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. And certainly not with a stranger on the other side of a door.

“Pass.”

He heard Gavin sigh.

“What’s your name?”

“Mike Hawk.” Michael smiled. He was prepared for this one.

“Mike….Hawk…?”

At this point he heard Ray approaching the bathroom door. He heard Gavin stand excitedly.

“Ray! He told me his name Ray! It's Mike! Mike Hawk!” Gavin gushed. Michael couldn't help it, laughter bubbled it's way up and escaped. It was a deep fulfilling laughter, and he clutched at his stomach. Gavin was so excited. The way he had said it, his accent so heavy…. He could hear Gavin's confused remarks and Ray’s laughter as well.

“Wot? I don’t get it...what are you guys laughing at?” Gavin’s pout was evident in his tone, which made Michael laugh harder.

“Jesus Gavin…” Ray hiccuped, “How many times have we told you to think about what you say before you say it? Think about it! That’s clearly not his real name!”

“I don’t get it. What’s wrong with Mike Hawk?”

Ray and Michael howled with laughter. He used a crutch to get up and open the door. He limped out of the bathroom to see them standing in the doorway. Ray was using the wall as support as he doubled over. Gavin stood there looking positively vexed, which sent Michael into another fit.

“Jesus man, that’s the hardest I’ve laughed in a long time.” Ray wiped a tear from his eye before looking up at Michael. He did a bit of a double take. He noticed Gavin was staring at him as well. His smile faded and he scowled a bit. He didn’t really like being stared at. He chastised himself for getting swept up in their antics. 

“What?” He hunched a little, adjusting the crutch. He was suddenly feeling self conscious in the baggy clothes he was given. The were clearly made for someone bigger than him, but they were soft. The hoodie was warm in contrast with the air conditioning, and since he wasn’t given socks the extra length on the legs of the sweatpants wasn’t as bad to deal with. Anything beat what he was wearing before at this point. He felt bad leaving his clothes on the floor, so he did his best to fold them and leave them on the bathroom counter. He was a prisoner, not an animal. He did have some manners. The memories of earlier that afternoon flooded back, and Michael’s face flushed in embarrassment. Well. When it counted anyway.

Ray shrugged. “Nothin’ man. You just look a lot better now. Who knew there was a real human underneath all that shit?” He looked at Gavin and grinned, “You’re such a fucking troll dude. If Ryan doesn’t kill us when he gets back he is definitely gonna now.”

Gavin pursed his lips, trying to hide the smile threatening to break out. He was still staring at Michael, a warm look softening his expression.

“I didnt know you wore glasses until Ryan found you. You weren’t wearing glasses when we first met. I kind of miss the aviators mate. I think I’m going to steal your look. What do you think Ray? I think I’d look top in some golden ones” Gavin framed his eyes and looked at Ray, who rolled his in turn.

“Oh yeah, anything to detract from that nose of yours.”

Gavin squawked in indignation, “Rude Ray!” 

They walked down the hall, leaving Michael standing there in a bit of a daze. Were they really just going to hang out and let him wander around? Did they not care that he was standing right there? He could just straight up walk to the nearest phone or computer and do whatever he wanted.

Gavin looked back at him before they got far.

“You comin’? Want to be careful of that radius. I would feel bloody awful if you accidentally got shocked.”

Oh. Right. He looked down at the monitor on his ankle with disdain. That answered that question then. He wasn’t really interested in testing to see if Gavin was bluffing right about now. He’d had enough adventure for one day. He followed them into the spacious living room. Ray had been busy. An xbox had been set up on the huge flatscreen, and a game Michael only somewhat recognized was queued up on the screen.

Gavin and Ray had already taken their place on the sectional, the place where they sat clearly routine. Michael hesitated. He was torn between using this opportunity to plan his escape and just sitting down. He felt horrendously out of place in this space. He clearly wasn’t supposed to be here. Like a puzzle piece that had a completely different shape than the rest of the puzzle.

The living room was an open floor plan, connecting to the kitchen and dining room seamlessly. The dining room had a giant oak table with ornate chairs to match that sat situated behind the sectional. Normally Michael thought chandeliers looked gaudy in any situation, but the abstract piece hanging above the table managed to blend in with the decor, adding to the feel of the room instead of taking away from it. The kitchen was equally as impressive, obviously more used than the dining room. 

The large granite counters and matching island created a wall along the entryway, where the elevator sat There was a second floor level with a railing that Michael could see, but he couldn’t even begin to guess what was up there. To the right of the sectional the giant glass panel that separated the living room from the balcony shone. There was a large pool and patio area outside. He hovered awkwardly taking it all in before Ray noticed he was standing there.

“Oh right! We didn’t really have an ice pack laying around, but I did manage to find these gross ass peas in the freezer. Here you go man.” 

Michael almost lost his balance trying to catch the peas before they fell. Ray had tossed them over the side of the couch at him. Ray cringed a bit.

“Sorry man...uh. Yeah.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

Michael bit back the sarcastic remark. It was harder than he thought being civil. The guy was just trying to help. He hopped over to the farthest corner from them and sat on the couch, gingerly putting the peas on his knee. He was acutely aware of their eyes on him, so he tried his best not to wince. The cold felt really nice, numbing some of the pain he was feeling. When they were convinced he was settled they attempted to get him to play.

He wasn’t having any of it. He steadfastly refused to touch the controller they waved at him. It wasn’t that he wasn't interested in playing, he just didn’t want to lose his focus. He had to keep reminding himself of his situation. It was so easy getting caught up in the tornado that was the Gavin and Ray combo. In another life, under different circumstances he could see himself slotting into their dynamic, and he recognized how dangerous that was.

Michael instead settled into watching them play, catching himself smile and repeatedly trying to suppress the amusement he couldn’t help but feel. He didn’t add much into the conversation, but when he did it usually sent one or both of them into fits of peeling laughter. They spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get him to talk more. He was shocked when he glanced outside and saw streaks on pinks and yellows painted across the sky. Where had the day gone?

He didn’t understand what they found so funny about his commentary, he was only making observations about the game and how they were playing. The first person shooter wasnt even that hard. It was just idiotic they way Gavin would run in head first every time. And Ray usually had to go in and bail him out, which almost always lead them to both die. He couldn’t deny the situation felt familiar. He was about to say something about it when Gavin’s phone beeped at him. 

He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it. It was sort of amusing the rate that the color drained from his face. He glanced at Ray nervously, setting down his controller. 

“Um. Ryan’s GPS pinged. He is approaching the penthouse at….an alarming rate.”

The smile was wiped from Ray’s face instantly. Michael caught the glance Ray sent his way.

“How much time do we have?” He asked calmly, also setting his controller down.

Gavin looked at his phone and tapped it a couple of times. He showed Ray the screen.

“Seven minutes. He just entered the block. I think Geoff and Jack are with him. Cameras indicate two other people in the car with him. I mean. I can stall the elevator but Geoff has the override code…...”

They looked each other in the eyes, silently communicating in a way that indicated they’d been together a long time. Michael’s heart twisted painfully at the sight and he looked away.

“Okay, here’s the plan. Uh... mystery dude. Go chill in the one of the guest bedrooms. One of the first doors on the right, don't want to leave Gavin’s radius. Gavin and I got this right? We’ll cover for you. This has gone on long enough man.”

Gavin nodded in agreement. “It’ll be fine, they can’t possibly expect you to go back down in that room. You should at least be able to wander wherever we are. I made enough watches for everyone. It’ll be fun! That room looks boring as hell.”

“We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate our independence day!” Ray suddenly exclaimed, shaking Gavin by the shoulders and grinning like a madman.

“That was so top Ray!” Gavin looked impressed with Ray’s speech. 

Oh. My. God. He wasn’t serious. He met Ray’s amused gaze with a look of utter disbelief. 

“What the fuck? You can’t be real right now.” Michael shook his head, rubbing his face tiredly. He got up with his crutch and tossed the peas back into the kitchen. Ray was laughing again. Gavin was punching him in the side, trying to get him to fess up the joke. He was clearly feeling left out.

“I’m serious, that’s just fucking sad man. Educate your boyfriend for fucks sake.” He limped down the hallway and shook his head again.

Ray choked on his laughter and looked at Michael in shock. He closed the door to the bedroom before Ray could say anything else. After a second his changed his mind and cracked it so he could hear the conversation about to ensue. It wasn’t a moment too soon, as he heard the elevator ding open as soon as he did so.

He took the opportunity to examine the room. It was fairly simple all things considered. A queen sized bed with a blue comforter sat in the corner, and small desk sat on the opposite wall. He set his crutch against the wall and settled on the bed. Angry voices had already started rising. Well that didn’t take long.

“Are you guys okay?! Are you hurt?” He heard Jack say. He used to get Ryan and Jack confused, but after a couple of days of them escorting him he learned to tell the difference fairly quickly.

“We’re fine. Nothing happened here.” He heard Gavin respond innocently. Ryan didn’t seem to buy the facade.

“What the fuck Gavin? You said there was a distress signal on Geoff’s transmitter. Do you think this is a game? Do you know what kind of wild goose chase you sent me on? And to rope Geoff and Jack into thinking the same about mine? What were you thinking?”

Ray cut in. “We were thinking your ass needed to get the hell out of the house. This is getting out of hand. We can take care of ourselves. We can’t afford to sit in one place while we’re getting our asses hande-”

Ramsey’s hard voice interrupted Ray.

“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? It’s my job to protect this crew. It’s my job to make sure everyone is safe! You two are acting like children. You go into the field when I say you do!”

“Like hell you do Geoff! You expect me and Gavin to just sit on our asses here while you send everyone else out to risk their lives? I won’t do it!”

At that point things started devolving really quickly as far as Michael could tell. They all started talking over each other in loud harsh voices, each trying to be heard by everyone else. It was interesting for Michael to witness the other side of a Corpirate takeover. This is exactly what they wanted. It was a familiar tactic for them, to run and gun and disappear, causing confusion and dissent amongst their enemies ranks. It was a strategy they often defaulted to when an immediate take over was no longer possible. Clearly it was working.

Ramsey must be having a hell of a time dealing with it, and hiding his best assets was a move clearly meant to try and gain some footing. They wouldn’t be having this problem if Ramsey would just be forthcoming on what he was thinking. But Michael couldn’t help but feel like he was still missing a huge piece of the puzzle. Protecting your assets made sense, but the way Ramsey seemed to be doing it was really ineffective and fueled more by emotion that ration. Protecting was one thing, but not utilizing them at all? If Michael was on their side (which he wasn’t) he would be with Ray on this one. His interest was peaked again when he heard Jack cut into the argument with a question.

“Has anyone checked on our guest lately?”

The argument immediately ceased.

“You guys fucking didn’t.” Ramsey said. It was a loaded statement. Michael was curious on how they were going to maneuver that one.

“Let him go? Of course not!” Gavin sounded defensive, evading whatever further implications Ramsey meant by his statement. He had to give Gavin props. The guy knew his way around an argument. Even if his pop culture knowledge was atrocious.

“He isn’t to be fucked with! We’ve been over this a thousand times! You saw the way he almost got out, the way he planned that escape. You think he was just jerking on the cuffs for shits and giggles that whole time? We underestimated him and just like whoever the fuck he works for, he almost had us by the balls.”

“You said it yourself, he’s a traitor Geoff, I don’t think he works for anyone. Not anymore.” Ray said, just a hint of petulance coloring his tone.

“That’s even more dangerous. He back stabbed his own people. He isn’t to be trusted. Even if he were to cooperate, which he won’t, who’s to say he won’t turn around and throw us under the bus?” Jack sighed. He heard a set of keys jingle and the scraping of a chair.

“He saved our lives man! Not just me and Gavin. You guy’s too! He could have killed you with that launcher, he could have let Ryan and Geoff take a bullet. For whatever reason he didn’t. I didn’t realize I was working with a crew with no fucking code.” Ray’s voice turned defiant, venom lacing his tone. Ohhh shit. Ray invoked the code. Michael bit his bottom lip. Shit just got real.

This seemed to anger Ramsey more than anything that had been said thus far. His tone had turned vicious. Something slammed, and he heard a shatter. He winced.

“Don’t you fucking get it?! He could be Jesus himself descending from the heavens for all I give a shit! There is NO code, NO law, NO rule in the fucking universe that will prevent me from keeping you guys safe! ALL of you. Every fucking one of you.”

Gavin, the brave little soul that he was, attempted to diffuse the situation.

“Geoff, wait. Look. See this watch? I programmed it to-,”

“I don’t fucking CARE Gavin. We are done with this conversation.”

Oh hell no. Michael got up and grabbed his crutch. He didn’t know what kind of ship Ramsey ran around here, or what kind of weird relationship they all seemed to have. He didn’t know what Gavin’s or Ray’s intentions toward being nice to him where. (He refused to believe it was because they had some misplaced sense of owing him. They didn’t owe him shit. Not really.) What he did know was that he was wearing clean clothes and had a crutch. What he did know was that his knee didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did before because of the bag of peas they gave him. What he did know was that despite having every opportunity, neither of them mentioned him breaking down so they could try and discuss how to use that to their advantage.

The argument continued as he walked out of the bedroom and down the hall. Ramsey was still shouting.

“He is dead. The second we are done here, WHOEVER the fuck he is-”

“Michael. My name is Michael _fucking_ Jones. If you’re gonna shoot me do it. Anything is fucking better than listening to you beat your chest and play king of the fucking hill. If this is how you talk to your closest friends I fucking _shudder_ to think about how you talk to the rest of your crew, or what they say about you behind your god damn back. I'd fucking trick you into leaving too if this was the shit I had to put up with everyday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I update this thing quite a lot. So I'm very sorry if I am flooding any of your inboxes with notifications. I take a really long time to commit to things because I know once I do I don't really stop until my task is complete. It's hard because I know limiting yourself and slowing down also has benefits. As a new writer I want very badly to improve, and writing this has sort of become routine for me. I'm gonna depend on you guys to let me know when I'm getting crazy XD If you get used to seeing this updated every day to every other day and suddenly that stops don't be alarmed, it just means I'm giving your email a break from seeing my name in it lol


	10. Chapter 10

The reaction to his presence was instantaneous. He quickly decided that if he were to get shot and die right then, it would be worth it just for the expressions alone.

Ray’s eyes were wide, and his mouth was open.He was standing behind the sectional next to Geoff. It was pretty clear they had just been up in each other's face. What looked to be a shattered decanter lay in pieces between them. Michel could see some of the shards that had skittered out from behind the couch. Ray was staring at Michael like he had just grown a second head.

Jack has half out of one of the dining room chairs, he was probably about to try and break up the fight. He wasn't looking at Michael, he was staring up at Geoff with a mixture of anxiety and worry. Definitely together those two. Michael was almost sure of it. Gavin was closest to Michael, a fact that Ryan quickly rectified by pulling him away. His expression was by far the most positive. His eyes sparkled at Michael, and the warm expression from earlier was back.

Michael figured Gavin hadnt tried to break up the fight himself because he was being considerate. He didnt accidentally want to fry him by straying to far. Michael galnced at the brits self imposed bodyguard. Ryan looked absolutely murderous. (Nothing new about that.) 

He stood halfway in front of Gavin, trying to obscure him from view. By Michael's estimate, Gavin was fairly close to the ten foot mark. Keeping an eye on the was going to be a pain.

Ryan had his face paint on still, a bit smudged around the edges of his face. He had zeroed in on the clothes Michael was wearing. If looks could kill Michael would be dead a thousand times over. He was by far the quickest to react. His gun was up and pointing at Michael's chest before he could even finish his sentence.

Of all of the expressions in the room, Michael found Ramsey’s to be the most interesting. He saw a multitude of emotions flash across his face before settling into the hard mask he presented Michael. Piercing blue eyes stared at him, seemingly into his soul. They were sharp in a predatory in a way that made Michael feel small. 

It was almost like a switch was flipped. A serious individual under a lot of stress who was concerned for his people was suddenly a person who could care less if the world burned around him.

He straightened to his full height, slowly walking over to Michael. Glass crunched under his feet. Ryan's gun never wavered as he maintained his aim. He seemed to be waiting for Ramsey to give the signal to shoot, but Ramsey never gave it. He stopped just in front of Michael. Michael resisted the urge to step away. He wasn't gonna give this man the satisfaction.

“And what, may I ask, the _fuck_ do you know about how to treat other people? As far as I can tell, you _shot_ your own team. In cold fucking blood. So tell me kid, _enlighten_ me. Please. How should I talk to my own crew? Because you seem to be really great at it. Considering the situation you are in now and how you got here.” Geoff said, his voice carrying across the room.

Michael's gaze didn't waver. He refused to back down and be cowed. He thought about the files he was given on these people. How much stock his old bosses put in killing the people around Ramsey first. How much of a threat they all were when they were together. So far Michael wasn't impressed with what he saw.

“You know what they say about this group?” he didn't wait for a response. He pointed at Jack. 

“Right arm.”

He pointed at Ryan. 

“Left arm.”

He pointed at Gavin and Ray.

“Left and right leg.”

He sneered as he pointed directly at Ramsey’s forehead.

“Brain. _Supposedly_. Though I have a hard time believing that after listening to this shit. “You go in the field when I say you do?” What is this? The fucking military? Do they have to salute you while they kiss your ass too? Is that the golden rule? No one gets a say in their own life because they have to get permission from daddy first?” 

He heard a cough that sounded suspiciously like a poorly disguised laugh come from behind Ryan.

Ramsey to his credit simply stared at Michael. His expression barely shifted at Michael's words. But he could tell the mask was cracking. He could see anger simmering just below the surface of the facade. Jack was looking at him now. Michael didn't much care for the calculating glare being sent his way. He broke eye contact briefly to send a glare back. 

“So like I said. Shoot me. I'm gonna have a great fucking laugh watching you from hell as everything you know and love gets destroyed by your own idiocy. Your job to protect the crew? Your job to make sure everyone is safe? News flash asshole, you're all criminals. No one is ever safe. Not fucking really. Get your balls out of your purse. You said these guys were being children? I only see one kid throwing a tantrum here.”

Michael looked pointedly at the shattered decanter before continuing. He shrugged.

“What the fuck do I know though? You're right about that. I'm just some low life traitor to his own kind. I can't even run away properly. The guy that “almost had you by the balls” got thwarted by a skinny ass nerd and his mexican sidekick while you were out playing hide and go seek this afternoon.”

He lifted his pant leg, revealing the monitor. Ramsey looked at it, not quite successful in concealing the confusion on his face. He looked like he recognized the device but didn't quite know what it was doing on Michael's ankle.

Gavin popped out from around Ryan. 

“I was trying to tell you Geoff! The watch! I reprogrammed the whole thing.” he waved his hand around, trying to get Ramsey to look over at the watch on his wrist.

Gavin’s bright tone contrasted with the heavy tension in the room. Whether it was because Gavin was ignorant of social cues or because he simply chose to ignore them Michael didn't know.

He didn't think that was enough context for Ramsey to understand the nuances of Gavin's invention. But to Michael's surprise Ramsey contemplated the monitor as if he already knew the ins and outs of the thing. Gavin interrupting seemed to cut some of the edge in the conversation away. Jack visibly relaxed behind them, and he could see Ray let out a long breath.

Ramsey didn't break eye contact with Michael as he started talking to Gavin. He could see Ramsey’s shoulders sag a little. His expression thawing out. The mask cracked a little further.

“Radius?”

“Ten feet. Though I might make it a bit bigger.”

“Fire?”

“Heavens no! Electricity.”

Ramsey nodded, seemingly absorbing the information. An eternity seemed to pass as he stared defiantly up at the crime lord. Ramsey finally motioned at Ryan to lower his weapon. Ryan hesitated, but put his gun away after a moment.

“He isn't to leave the penthouse without my say so. You keep him in that bedroom. You hear me? And there better be someone on him 24/7 when he isn’t in there. Nobody outside this room gets a watch. No one talks to him and he talks to no one. Not without multiple people in the room.” 

Gavin nodded eagerly and ran upstairs to the second story walkway that overlooked the living room. Michael’s mouth opened in horror. 

“Wait-!”

Before he could say anything else though Gavin stepped out of the radius. So much for not accidenatlly frying him. The effect was instantaneous. It felt like fire running up his leg, and he could feel the muscles spasm. His bad knee straightened involuntarily and he saw stars. Darkness invaded the corners of his vision. His teeth clenched as he clutched at his crutch. He was severely stumbling to the right before he found purchase. It was a near thing, he ended up slamming into the wall behind him.

“FUCK.” He gasped. “You fucking asshole. Do you ever think before you do anything you British fuck? Oh my god I hate this place. I hate this city. I hate you fucking people.”

He doubled over to catch his breath, the wall he was leaning against a blessing. He probably would have fallen over without it.

“Oh my god! So sorry! I am SO sorry! Are you alright?” Gavin looked like someone had kicked his puppy as he tried to get to Michael to help, but Ryan held him back. His expression was smug as Michael struggled to stand on his own. He never wanted to punch someone so bad in his life.

Ramsey’s shrill ringtone made everyone jump. He glanced at Ray regretfully before walking into the other room to take the call.

Michael finally gained purchase on his own. The shock had hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before. He was used to electrical work and the hazards that came with it. And in his long career he'd been tortured before. Electrocution wasn't a new thing for Michael unfortunatly. Gavin stopped struggling, jerking his arm away and sending Ryan a death glare of his own.

Ray too had looked like he wanted to help. But he had been torn between trying to help free Gavin and get to Michael. When Gavin stopped struggling he mouthed “sorry” at him. Michael knew exactly where he could shove that apology.

When it was apparent Michael wasn't going to keel over Ray walked around the the front of the couch and slouched in a cushion. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his purple zip up hoodie. Michael wouldn’t go as far as to say the guy was brooding, but it was a near thing. He caught Michael’s eye and sent a small smile his way. Michael flushed and looked away. He didn’t need Ray thinking they were friends.

He just didn’t like it when people got yelled at on his behalf. Or bullies. Chalk it up to old scars. He wasn’t defending them or anything. Though if he knew he was going to get electrocuted for his trouble he wouldn't have come out at all.

“He's under a lot of stress you know…” Jack said softly, from where he sat at the dining table. A weird expression was on his face. Jack was looking at him while clearly talking to Ray. Michael didn't understand it. He was too busy trying to ignore the unpleasant tingling sensation coming from the monitor to dissect.

Ray wasn't having any of it. He glared at Jack. 

“Why are you always making excuses for him?”

Jack's response died on his lips when a hand rested on the bearded man's shoulders. Michael blinked. He hadn't even realized Ryan had moved from his spot by the kitchen. Jack looked up at Ryan, equally surprised. Ryan shook his head slightly, giving Michael side eye. 

He took the hint and rolled his eyes.

“Oh gee, whatever will I do if I don't get to hear you defend your bosses honor. Excuse me while I go barf and try to figure out how to amputate my leg.” He turned and made to go back into the bedroom.

“Wait.” Ray got off of the couch.

He turned around just in time to get hit in the shoulder by the bag of peas from earlier. They fell to the floor with a plop. He looked up to see Ray with his arm still extended, embarrassment clear on his face. Michael couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

“Seriously? Aren't you brown people supposed to be good at baseball or something? I'm white as shit and even I can throw better than that. Ask peaches over there. He’ll tell you.” 

Ray blushed and flipped him off. He laughed as Ryan turned red for an entirely different reason. He could see the tell tale clench of his jaw. Served him right. It was payback for the smug look. Michael scooped up the peas with his free arm. He was getting pretty good at balancing on one leg if he did say so himself, despite the abuse his other limb had just suffered.

“Good luck with your soap opera bullshit. I'm sure it will be riveting to listen to more shouting. Hope your neighbors don't call the cops on you. Wouldn't that be some shit?”

Gavin trailed after him, making sure to stay close as he made his way to the bedroom he was sentenced to. 

Michael closed the door with a little more force than normal. He waited for a moment and let out a long breath. Exhaustion swept over him. He hadn't had a decent night of sleep in ages, every muscle hurt, and the beginnings of a headache began to form behind his eyes. He was pretty sure he was going through nicotine withdrawal. 

He settled into the comforter, trying to overhear the murmurs from the living room. It was awkward trying to maneuver with the peas, but eventually he ended up with an odd nest that he could almost relax in. Even if the pain in his leg was becoming unbearable.

Now that they knew he was in the nearest guest bedroom they were clearly being more careful with their volume. He heard Geoff come back from his phone call, and the sounds of glass being swept up. He wanted so badly to sleep, but the sounds of activity keep his mind on edge. He was so used to being alone, the thought of people being around while he would be vulnerable sleeping didn’t sit well with him. At least the conference room he was kept in before was out of the way and mostly silent. Not that he slept much in there either.

Boredom quickly set in as he stared at the wall opposite of him. Dreading of the inevitable nightmares that awaited him as soon as he nodded off, he continued to fight sleep. He tried to pass the time by playing games in his head, and when that stopped working he switched to planning heists that would never happen. He soon ran out of safe topics to mull over. 

Judging on the clock that sat on the desk an hour had gone by since he was exiled in here. There was no cat to distract him. No reason to go outside. He couldn’t leave the room without getting electrocuted and or shot at. Being upstairs was no different than being downstairs he had decided. It was almost worse. That and he was kind of starving. He hadn’t eaten since Ryan brought him food that morning. That seemed like years ago now.

Eventually he settled on listening to the sounds of voices in the living room, making up the conversation as he imagined it might go.

“Sorry for being an absolute prick guys, I'm just an asshole with pretty blue eyes and cool tattoos with a god complex” he imitated Ramsey’s voice, making it two octaves higher than it should have been.

He lowered his voice as deep as it would go. “Oh no worries Ramsey, I'm just as big of an ass, I think I’m so cool running around with skull make up cause I think it's edgy.”

“Oh Ryan, you’re not an arse, I think your makeup is tippy top tally ho! If anything is stupid it's my dumb looking hair. It just sticks up everywhere like a bird’s nest! Also I'm a forgetful moron that accidentally electrocutes people. I should work on not being a stupid knob asshole jerk face."

He stopped abruptly when he heard footsteps pass by. Lights were being switched off and doors were being closed. It seemed like whatever they were discussing and doing out there was finished. He wasn’t sure who had left, who had stayed, and where everyone was. It was enough to set him on edge again.

He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good theme for this chapter is Uprising by Muse.
> 
> Thank you for all of the support last chapter! Your comments and support mean the world to me. I adore you guys and everyone who has left a kudos, bookmarked, or subscribed!
> 
> P.s: Sorry if your email tricked you and you came looking for a chapter that wasnt there. I had to delete and repost the chapter as some stuff didn't get moved over somehow as I made the transfer XD


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music recommendation for this chapter: Sunday Morning by Maroon 5

He ended up in a weird pseudo half sleep for the last half of the night. He allowed himself to drift, but shook himself awake whenever it became apparent he was nodding off fully. He was sitting upright. The one time he had accidentally let himself fall completely, he ended up jerking awake because he leaned on his leg. The peas had long since thawed, and Michael had thrown them on the desk. It was in this state that a sharp knocking had him nearly tumbling out of the bed.

He glanced at the clock. Seven am. Jesus. He managed to right himself before Jack peeked his head in. He had ditched the hawaiian shirt in favor of a simple tee shirt with a plaid button up over the top of it. It was unbuttoned in the front and Jack had rolled the sleeves up. He also wore cargo shorts. His expression was amused as he took in Michael's bed head and crooked glasses. 

“Can’t get into the kitchen without leaving the radius.” He held up a watch similar to Gavin's, except instead of black and green it was bright blue with a pink border. “Better get going before I leave you.”

Michael was too exhausted to respond. He simply grabbed his crutches and the peas before following Jack out through the living room. The curtains covering the giant window panes separating the balcony had been drawn back.

The colors of a Los Santos sunrise painted the penthouse on a rainbow of golds, reds and oranges. He looked out at the horizon longingly. He could have been out there, enjoying a beach or roaming a mountain somewhere. He took a moment to mourn the loss of his freedom. Michael spent a lot of time watching sunrises when he couldn't sleep. But it was the first time in a long while that anyone had been with him this early in the morning. Though he supposed he didn't really have a say in that matter.

Jack had busied himself with making coffee in the kitchen, leaving Michael to sit at the island. He stared at Jack working, trying not to fall asleep at the counter. He was lulled by the clattering of cookware. When the coffee was done Jack set a mug down in front of Michael before pouring his own cup. The silence wasn’t oppressive, but it wasn’t comfortable either. He could tell Jack was keeping an eye on him from the corner of his eye. Michael noticed the mug Jack had given him had giant letters painted on it. He tilted it to get a better look. The letters U-N-T took up the whole of one side. He snorted in laughter. Fucking bastard.

Jack ignored the snicker and continued his task. Michael caught a glimpse of a half smile before Jack had turned completely away. He was beginning to make pancakes. How domestic. It might even be a little cute if Michael didn't hate the man so much. The motions of putting the mix together seemed practiced, but Jack would pause every once in awhile in his work, like he couldn't quite remember where everything was kept. Michael took a sip of coffee and savored the taste.

The other guys were nowhere to be found. Probably still sleeping or something. He resisted the urge to lay his head on the counter. At least he wasn’t being secluded away anymore. Michael stared into his mug, willing the coffee to kick in. He wondered how it would taste if he mixed in red bull. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something like that to stay awake. He decided he needed to entertain himself before he succumbed to nodding off.

He waited until Jack was reaching for something on a high shelf before pushing a button.

“So how long you been banging your boss?”

It had the desired effect. Jack twitched and lost his grip on the glass pitcher he was reaching for, juggling it comically. Before it could fall however, another hand reached out and plucked it out of the air. Michael startled. He hadn’t even heard anyone approach. Jack took it back gratefully and continued to ignore the question. 

“Anyone ever tell you that you're a creepy motherfucker? Stop sneaking up on people. Holy shit.” he looked over at Ryan, who had clearly been up for awhile. The asshole didn’t even look tired.

Ryan ignored him and wordlessly poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down on the opposite end of the island, furthest away from Michael. The face paint was gone, and he wore a pair of jeans and an old grey shirt with a bar logo Michael didn’t recognize on the front. The bruise on his face had fully set in and had started to turn colors. He was staring at the hoodie Michael was wearing. Michael took another sip of coffee and lifted an eyebrow at the scrutinization. He was tired of being stared at. 

“Sorry I stole your mug.” he held the cup up so Ryan could get a clear look of the side of it.

He heard Jack clear his throat noisily, trying to stifle a laugh. Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Do you ever shut the hell up?”

“And give you peace and quiet? Never.”

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a quiet breath. Instead of rising to the bait he addressed Jack instead.

“Is Lindsay coming over today?” 

The name felt vaguely familiar to Michael, but he couldn’t quite place where he had heard it before. Jack set a plate of pancakes down in front of Ryan and turned his attention back to the stove. He nodded.

“Yeah, she should be over any time now. She had to do that….thing for Geoff first.” he glanced over at Michael. He took small satisfaction that his presence caused them to think twice about what they were saying. He knew the annoyance of not being able to speak freely in front of certain people all too well.

Ryan only grunted in response, turning his attention back to his coffee. Michael wanted to ask where the others were, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go over very well. Instead he chose to let the conversation lull. He felt himself drifting again. He hated early mornings. It was an awkward time where his body couldn’t decide if it was gonna keep Michael awake or not. Not sleeping well the past few days wasn’t doing him any favors either.

The sound of a plate being set in front of him made him jump a little. He looked up to see Jack giving him that weird look again. He frowned at the pancakes. Syrup had already been poured on top of them. They were probably poisoned or something. Jack just seemed like the kind of guy to do that sort of thing. Before he could say anything Jack interrupted.

“You watched me make them. If we wanted you dead you’d be dead.” 

He squinted up at the guy. What was with these people and their weird ability to read his mind? And that was another question entirely. Gavin gave him a non answer last time. He was clearly in the presence of two of the people who wanted him dead as soon as possible. There was no one to oppose them here. So why wasn't he?

“What? Little traitor too good for pancakes?” Ryan mocked him, taking a bite off his own plate. Michael sneered over at him.

“Nah. Just wondering why you haven’t used any chocolate spread on yours. Since that seems to be your kink. Bet you have a box full hidden under your bed.”

“Oohh good one. Take you all night to come up with that?”

“You wish I spent that much time thinking about you.”

Jack was staring at Ryan with a stunned expression. Ryan’s eyes narrowed as he caught Jack staring.

“What?” he said defensively. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Jack said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

“He probably smells your morning breath from over there. He is trying to figure out the best way to tell you without you flying into a murderous rage and killing us.” Michael piped in, taking a bite of pancake.

“Big words coming from a guy who up until yesterday smelled like a garbage dump. I want that hoodie back as soon as your clothes are dry by the way. I don’t want it contaminated further by your idiocy.”

Michael laughed outright at that. Over his dead body. This was his hoodie now. Especially now that Ryan had confirmed that these were his clothes. He gestured at the garment slowly with his fork, syrup getting dangerously close to smearing across the front.

“Oh? Is this yours? Because I don't see your name on it. I’m pretty sure Gavin gave it to me. That makes it mine. Unless you want to come over and try and take it from me by force.” He purposefully let a little bit of syrup dribble down his front, his gaze challenging.

Ryan slowly set down his fork. 

Before a brawl in the middle of the kitchen could ensue the elevators dinged open. He heard Jack mutter something that suspiciously sounded like “Oh thank god.” 

The sound of laughter came from the entryway. Michael didn’t bother looking over as the sound of bags rustling and shoes being taken off mixed with the sizzling of Jack cooking. He didn’t recognize the voices. They were distinctly female. Until his coffee kicked in the world could be ending and Michael wouldn’t be able to bring himself to care.

It wasn’t until a bag loudly fell to the floor somewhere behind him and one of the girls suddenly stopped talking mid sentence that he bothered to turn around in his bar stool. He was about to say something rude when stopped short. Two women stood there, one of them staring at him with an astonished expression. 

“Barbara?” Jack questioned from behind the counter. The blond ignored Jack and kept staring at Michael, who at this point had scrambled out of his stool. He had his fork pointed at her in a defensive stance as he leaned on the counter for balance. Of all the rotten luck. Not only was he at the mercy of the Fakes, but the blond thief that had attempted to rob him his first day in Los Santos was also in this crew. Fan-fucking-tasitc.

“OF COURSE. Of course you would be in this goddamn crew. I don’t have a cent to my name woman! Keep your sticky little fingers to yourself.” he waved his fork around to emphasize his point. As if that was going to make her think twice about getting near him.

The blond, Barbara, tilted her head and smirked.

“Well well well, if it ain’t Mr. Kitchen Knife himself. Or should I say Mr. Sun? Been meaning to find you and get you back for that restaurant fiasco. You cost me a bet. One hundred wallets in four hours. You were my last mark. I don’t lose those bets lightly you know.” she looked at the crutch leaning against the counter. Her smile got even wider if that was possible.

“Oh and look at that! Looks like you can’t chase me down this time either. Lady luck really is on my side today.”

Jack looked between them with utter confusion. Ryan’s eyebrows had pulled together, his face contemplative.

The redhead that had come in with Barbara looked at Michael and nudged her in the side.

“You gonna give us the low down or what? I’m dying of suspense here. You two know each other? This is the guy Geoff sent me over to take a look at.”

Barbara laughed, using the redheads shoulder as support.

“Oh my god! This is so great! Karma. Karma I tell you! I knew you were trouble when I seen you step outta that airport. But I like a challenge. Now look at you! You're up shit creek without a paddle aren’t you Mr. Sun?”

Jack interjected.

“Mr. Sun? Isn’t his name Michael? Michael Jones?” He looked over at Michael, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of Barbara. Her eyes glittered with mirth.

“Not based off of the wallet I lifted off of him. Crazy bastard chased me halfway across the city to get it back. Couldn’t just let me have it could you? Couldn’t stand to be had by a pretty little blond? Did I wound your manly pride?” 

She leered at him, a knowing expression flit across her face. She’d clearly seen the picture inside. She knew that she had taken all of the money out and that Michael hadn’t bothered to get it back. That he clearly hadn’t given a shit about that. The only reason she even still had the wallet instead of tossing it like usual was because she needed proof for her bet. He didn’t know about that bet. He wasnt sure whether she ditched it or not. He had gone through the trouble and chased her halfway across the city in the blind hope that she would still have it. Everyone was too busy staring at Michael to notice her expression.

Michael growled at her, his grip tightening on the fork. They were treading dangerous waters. Very dangerous. She looked unconcerned as she continued.

“He got it back too. Knives are a good look for you kid. I’d have asked you out on a date if you hadn't nearly taken my head off and cost me my pride as a pickpocket. Kara still won’t let me live that one down. Well. That and your crew tried to take out some of my biggest clients. Would have put a bit of a Romeo and Juliet spin on things I suppose.”

The redhead whistled lowly.

“Not everyday someone gets the better of you Barbs.”

Barbara shrugged. “I suppose this is revenge in of itself. Have you at least made yourself useful and spilled your guts out yet? At least then you being a traitor would make sense. They aren’t a bad crew to do business with. Dunno who you worked for, but if anybody is anybody in Los Santos it's the Fakes.” She gestured at Ryan, Jack and the red head.

“Nothing but his name. He won’t say anything about anything else.” Jack dumped a giant stack of pancakes on a plate and set it in the middle of the kitchen island for anybody to eat off of.

She laughed again, choosing to skirt around Michael and taking a seat next to Ryan. “Wow. Your priorities are kinda fucked up aren't they? If I were staring down any of these guys I’d give up my whole life story.”

“Well good thing I’m not you.” He slowly climbed back up his stool, keeping her in his peripherals.

The redhead sat next to Michael without a care in the world. Michael leaned away from her.

“Well, whoever you are, Geoff sent me to examine that knee of yours. So as soon as you’re done eating I’d like to get that over with. I got places to be and shit to do. My name is Lindsay by the way.” she poured herself a glass of orange juice and started up a conversation with Ryan.

Michael ate the rest of his pancakes slowly, tuning in to the conversations going on around him. Lindsay had apparently been sent to wherever Barbara worked to do a task, and when she had heard Lindsay was headed here she had decided to accompany her. He determined that Ray, Gavin, and Ramsey weren’t here. He didn’t imagine they had gotten up in the middle of the night to leave, since Michael would have heard them. They must not have spent the night here.

When he was done he was shepherded to the couch in the living room, with Jack following behind. Ryan had been left in the kitchen area with Barbara to help clean up breakfast. He eyed Lindsay warily as she examined his leg. If she had questions about the monitor she didn’t mention it.

Even Jack winced a little as she poked and prodded at the deep, swollen purple mess. He flinched when she hit a tender spot behind his knee.

“Jesus! Be careful would yah?”

“Oh man up, I didn’t even touch it that hard.” she looked unimpressed with his aggravation as she continued to work. 

“Did you leave your bedside manner at home or somethin’?”

She looked at him wolfishly and mimicked his voice, “That implies I had bedside manner to begin with dun it?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. He liked her, even if he had to hate her on principle. He warmed up to her no nonsense attitude. She reminded him a bit of Kdin. The thought send a pang through his heart. He kind of missed her. He wondered what she would think of this crew.

“Alright, you gotta get that swelling down before you can get this brace on. It looks to me like a grade two sprain. And before you protest, unless you want your leg snapping like a twig later on you’ll put the brace on and keep it on for at least two weeks. If you’re still alive that is. But like I said, get the swelling down first. Take some aspirin and keep ice on it. I’ll leave the brace here in the meantime.” She got up and dusted herself off. 

Barbara and Ryan had finished up in the kitchen, and she gestured at Lindsey. 

“Drive you to Mica’s?”

Lindsay nodded before saying her goodbyes. She looked at Michael and saluted. 

“Hope your still alive next time I see ya Jersey boy!” 

He shook his head as they left. How had she known he was from Jersey? This crew had an odd way of reading him whether he wanted them to or not. Michael tried not to think about how terrifying a prospect that actually was.

The penthouse was oddly quiet after the girls left. Jack had set two aspirin in front of him as per Lindsay's orders and just sort of hovered in the living room. Michael wasn’t really sure where Ryan had gone off to, just that he had disappeared around the time Barbara left the kitchen.

It was like Jack wasn’t sure what to do with Michael now that everything was said and done. The excitement that morning left Michael feeling drained. He fiddled with one of the strings on his hoodie. He half expected Jack to order him back into the bedroom. He surprised Michael by sitting down next to him instead. Not close enough to reach out and touch, but closer than he normally would have. Jack cleared his throat nervously.

“Is Michael your real name?”

Really? This is where he was going with this? Michael leveled him with an annoyed look.

“That’s the name I gave you.” It wasn’t a real answer. Michael could deal in non answers too.

“I just...I need to say something. And I would prefer it if I could say it while knowing for sure.”

Michael didn’t see where this was going. He was quickly becoming irritated at this odd line of questioning. He was a fool to think they might let up on the interrogation tactics.

“Whatever you gotta say, just spit it out. Michael is the name I gave you. Take it or leave it.”

Jack didn’t look satisfied with that answer at all. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat before seemingly steeling himself for whatever he was about to say next. He turned his body toward Michael, and folded his hands in his lap.

“Thank you Michael.”

Of the many things Michael had expected him to say, that was literally the last thing he would have guessed in a million years. His eyes widened in astonishment. Jack continued his speech in a hurried manner, almost like if he took too long he would lose his nerve to continue.

“I realize...I’ve been unfair. To you. To...others. I don’t know why. I can't even begin to fathom why. You would do what you did I mean. I uh...I mean.” Jack struggled to find words. “I don’t trust you. I really don’t. I would much rather have Ryan deal with you and be done with this whole thing if I’m being honest with you. And I’m sorry, I can’t bring myself to come to any other conclusion about you but that. But...things aren’t ever that black and white are they? Things would be so much easier if they were...I don’t know why you did what you did...but for whatever reason that it was...thank you. I think I at least owe you that much.”

Jack looked down at his hands and fiddled with his thumbs. Michael was speechless. He half expected Ryan to jump out from somewhere with a camera crew.

He just stared at Jack like an idiot. The awkward tension in that air only increased as time went by. Eventually the atmosphere became too much. He wasn’t sure if the bedroom was in the radius of his monitor, but electrocution be damned. He got up and made his way there was fast as he could, shutting the door and effectively shutting out any other possibility of a continued heart to heart that could occur. 

He tried to calm his beating heart. What the fuck was that?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Slides in with a new chapter*
> 
> Hope your St. Patricks was as eventful as mine was! Spent a couple of days fighting this chapter into submission and plotting things to come! Back to your regularly scheduled shenanigans now!
> 
> Inspiration for this chapter:
> 
> Fall Out Boy- Sugar We're Going Down

“You can have sex with any woman in the world for six months, but Christmas is canceled for the year and everyone in the world knows it's because of you.”

Michael looked over at Gavin and narrowed his eyes. Was this guy serious?

“I wish I spoke idiot so I could tell you off in your own language.” He replied, turning his attention back to the television. 

They were watching some shitty drama that popped up on one of the channels. None of them were actually paying attention to it.

Ray laughed from beside Gavin. They had gotten back a few hours ago. Geoff wasn't with them. Ray seemed...not lighter. But definitely less tense. It wasn't long before they had pestered Michael into the living room. It hadn't worked until Ray heavily hinted they would not be responsible for any accidental electrocution that may occur if he didn't come out. Sneaky bastard. 

At least Jack had seemed just as eager to not talk about what had transpired between them as Michael was. As soon as the guys herded Michael into the living room he left for the second floor of the penthouse and disappeared.

“That’s mean Michael! It's a serious question. What would you do Ray?” Gavin looked up at the guy with puppy dog eyes. Ray looked at Michael and seemed to hesitate for a moment before talking.

“Any woman? Or can it be both guys and girls?”

Gavin pondered the question. Michael kept his attention on the television, content to not be the focus of Gavin's attention for once. He didn't care if they liked fucking unicorns, it wasn't his problem or concern. 

“You’d have to choose.” 

Ray wrinkled his nose. He was obviously displeased with the choice presented to him.

“No thanks man. I won't be the Grinch who stole Christmas just so I can get laid. That's what you're here for.” Ray glanced over again, clearly trying to gauge Michael's reaction. He was sorely mistaken if he thought he was going to get one. Gavin and Ray being together was not news to him.

Gavin looked wholly unconcerned with the information that Ray had carefully let go. He turned his attention back to Michael.

“Ray said! Now it's your turn.”

Michael snorted. Gavin’s line of thought was always so black and white. Like any exchange of information was equivalent to another. Such a sneaky way to gather information. Either Gavin was really smart or he was too dumb to realize what kind of information you could gather from a simple would you rather question.

“Pass.”

Gavin sulked at being shut down. It was obvious in the way he slouched into the couch. The minutes passed in silence as they all pretended to be interested in what was going on on the television. The sound of rustling next to him had Michael begrudgingly looking over. His eyes widened.

Gavin waved a pack of cigarettes cheekily around. The exact brand Michael smoked. 

_“This shit is flammable as fuck Miles, go kill your lungs outside or put it out.”_

_Miles put out the smoke and sighed dramatically._

_“I’ll quit if it means I get to watch you work longer I suppose. Though I think my tough guy image will suffer. You’ll just have to protect me from all the bullies Michael.”_

_“Quit or don't, just don't do it in the garage while I’m working with this shit.”_

“I'd do it in a heartbeat. Fuck Christmas.”

He snatched the pack right out of Gavin's hand before he could change his mind and add any other questions. Gavin squawked in dismay. 

“Michaaaaell! You didn't answer the question right! You have to choose boys or girls!”

He rolled his eyes and ripped open the plastic surrounding the carton.

“You didn't say I had to. I answered your original question.”

He took his crutch and walked outside. The early afternoon weather was already proving to be hot and overbearing. He took a cigarette out and held it to his lips.

Oh. He didn’t have a lighter. He sighed and slowly looked behind him inside. Gavin was waving the lighter around smugly while Ray laughed into his shoulder. He pulled the sliding door open angrily.

“Guys. I pick guys, you fucking prick, now give me the lighter before I shove this crutch down your throat.”

Ray looked like he hadn’t been expecting that kind of answer at all. His eyebrows raised in surprise. Gavin however, looked totally unfazed. In fact, his eyes lit up if anything. Ugh. He didn’t need any of whatever fluffy shit Gavin was about to throw his way. He held out his hand impatiently.

“The lighter? You deaf or somethin’?”

Gavin tossed the lighter over to Michael without much fuss. Michael wrinkled his nose and snatched the lighter out of the air before slamming the door shut. How did that asshole know what kind of brand he smoked anyway? Whatever. He was being left to his own devices at least. Couldn't do much harm while smoking now could he? …….Or could he? He took a drag of his cigarette and flipped the lighter around in his free hand. There was nothing wrong with a little impromptu pyrotechnic fun.

The outside balcony area was a large area that took up the side of the building. A vast pool sprawled out, and an inlaid lounging area sat behind it. At night from what Michael could tell the pool and lounging area had individual lighting that lit the way for any visitors. Various patio furniture sat scattered across the balcony. He made note of two obvious cameras in the awning above the door. He had no doubt more were hidden. But he was also sure Gavin was paying attention to Ray in the living room. 

He took the lighter and pried the metal guard off. It took some work, but it wasn't the first time He had done it barehanded. When the guard was off he fiddled with the valve that controlled the gas emitting from the small device. He used the string of Ryan's hoodie to tie the button down. A small hissing could be heard coming from the device. He grinned.

Taking the glowing tip of the remaining part of his cigarette he lit the disassembled lighter and watched it for a moment. The flame from the lighter shot out four times the size of a normal lighter flame. It was mesmerizing to watch. He was about to toss it when he heard a voice behind him.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Uh oh. He looked up to see Ray peering over his shoulder. 

“Uh…..nothing.”

“Wait, what the hell did you do to the lighter?” he reached out to try and grab it from Michael.

“Jesus Christ don’t touch it!” Michael fumbled with the lighter, trying to prevent Ray from burning himself. To his horror he only ended up burning his own hand and fumbled with it. It fell and skittered under a lawn chair. The large flame had caught onto the plastic casing of the rest of itself. Michael’s eyes widened in panic. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, move asshole!” he shoved at Ray with his crutch, knocking him backwards.

He heard a giant crack as the fire ate away at the lighter, hitting the inner lining and eating away at the rest of the fluid in a small inferno. Unfortunately the dry air enabled the flame to travel higher, catching the cushion seated in the lawn chair as well. Michael and Ray stared at the chair, speechless.

“The the actual fuck man?” Ray said, gesturing at the flame currently getting bigger.

Gavin popped his head out of the glass door and looked at them accusingly, “What’s taking you guys so long?”

“Uh…”

Michael pointed at the lawn chair, rapidly being engulfed in flames. Gavin turned his head and did a double take, scrambling out the door and standing next to Ray.

“What in the bloody hell did you do?! Ray! The chair! Wha- I don’t understand! Did you purposely light it?” He pulled out his cellphone and began to film the whole thing.

Michael sent Gavin a glare and half heartedly tried to knock the phone being pointed at him away. “Of course not you idiot! If I wanted to set furniture on fire I’d just walk up to the couch and light the damn thing! Help me put it out before it catches on anything else!”

He walked over to the chair and used the crutch to pull it away from the paneling on the side of the penthouse.

“What the hell were you doing with the lighter in the first place?” Ray’s pitch increased several octaves as he ran back inside, presumably to get a fire extinguisher. He could hear Ray talking to someone else in the house but he wasn’t really paying attention to who. 

Jack stepped out, staring at the scene before him. Michael was staring at the fully engulfed chair, debating on whether he should just boot it into the pool, while Gavin snuck closer to get a better shot.

“I leave you alone for two minutes. Two fucking minutes. And shits on fire. Literally. Why is it always you that happens to be around when shit goes bad?” He raised his eyebrow at Michael, who bristled. It wasn’t his fault. Okay well, part of it was. He ignored the blush creeping up on his face. They weren’t gonna treat him like a child. Especially not Jack of all people. He repressed the memory of earlier that afternoon viciously.

“Blame Ray for being an idiot.”

“Oh hell no! You aren’t pinning this on me dude. I come out to check on you since you were acting shady and you’ve suddenly got a modded lighter in your hand!” Ray stepped out of the house with a fire extinguisher, popping the pin out and dousing the flame.

“You left him alone unattended? What the fuck were you guys thinking? He could have been signaling somebody or something!” Jack bat at the phone Gavin was shoving in his face, stepping around and between Michael and Ray in a protective stance. Michael rolled his eyes at the action. 

“Oh my god, you’re acting like I was plotting on burning you all to a crisp. Newsflash, you die I die. Who the fuck am I going to signal with a lighter on the top of a building in broad daylight?” He pointed at his ankle sarcastically to emphasize his point.

The fire was fully put out, and Gavin stared at the charred chair mournfully.

“So what the fuck were you doing then?” Jack said accusingly from beside Ray.

“Entertaining myself until this Mexican fuck interrupted.” Michael pointed at Ray, who crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. An annoyed look flit across his face and he puffed up at Michael in turn.

“I’m Puerto Rican actually. Not the same as Mexican thank you very much.” 

Silence descended on the patio. Gavin and Jack looked over, this seemingly news to them. How long had this crew been together? Isn’t that basic information? Michael looked between the three of them. What was with this crew? They acted like they didn’t know shit about each other. Not for the first time did Michael wonder how the fuck they actually functioned as a unit. Those he supposed one didn’t really need to know someone's ethnicity to work together. Gavin though? His supposed boyfriend?

“Puerto Rican? Really? I didn’t know that.” Jack's voice softened and Ray blushed under the sudden attention he was receiving.

“None of you ever asked. It’s not like it ever came up.”

The silence turned awkward as they all stared at the poor guy, obviously floundering. Michael felt kind of bad. Ray out himself, but Michael couldn’t help but feel a little responsible. He sighed.

“Whatever the fuck you are, let's go inside. I’m white as fuck and if I stand out here any longer I really will burn like a crisp.”

The rest of the day went by uneventful. They left the corpse of the chair outside to be disposed of later. Gavin suggested just tossing it off the side of the building but a glare from Jack shut that idea down rather quickly. They all settled back into the living room, busying themselves with whatever tasks they had to complete. Gavin had his laptop out, tapping furiously at it and sending Michael the occasional glance. He had taken to flipping the brunette off every time he caught him doing it. 

“Your clothes are dry. I can chill for a minute outside the door since Ray and Gavin are...occupied…” he heard Jack say from behind the couch. Ray had snatched the laptop away from Gavin and was running around the penthouse with it, while Gavin tried to get it back. They were currently on the second floor balcony as Ray held the laptop over the railing, quoting movie lines that Gavin didn’t get.

As much as Michael loved pissing Ryan off he was eager to get these clothes off. They were way too big for him. He wordlessly took the pile from Jack’s hands and hobbled to the bedroom. Getting dressed took longer than it normally would have. Every muscle in his body still hurt, and getting his pants on was kind of a nightmare with his leg. Eventually he was successful in getting everything on.

Instead of putting his own hoodie back on he tied Ryan's around his waist, leaving the rest of the clothes on the bed. He didn't have the pull string anymore, and he was too tired to fight Ryan about it should the psycho notice it was gone. Exhaustion came and went in waves, and he found himself dreading what tonight would bring. He managed to stave off the nightmares by not sleeping fully, but he knew that was only gonna get him so far. Eventually his body would betray him and he was gonna pass out.

He had tried to subtly keep getting coffee from the kitchen, but he caught Jack sending him an odd look the last time he had gone in there. Not trying to draw attention to himself, he stopped. It was kicking his ass to do so, as he was now trying not to fall asleep on the couch.

Neither Ramsey or Ryan had shown up until later that night. It sort of seemed like they had settled on rotating shifts escorting Ramsey around wherever he needed to be. He could only come to this conclusion after watching the guys disappear and reappear in the penthouse for as long as he had been here. Seemed like Ryan had left early that morning to relieve Ray and Gavin. 

The only thing in common with their disappearances was whenever they were all together it was only because Ramsey was around. He wondered how the leader was dealing with the Corpirate. He and Ryan had walked through the elevator, and judging by the slump in his shoulders the day had not gone well. He caught the look Ray sent Gavin, and Jack looked pained at the sight. He wished he could be a fly on the wall when he was inevitably banished so they could talk.

* * *

_“Miles god damnit! Come back! Don’t do this-!”_

_“I’m sorry Michael-”_

He woke, strangling on the screech building in his throat. As far as he could tell it had only amounted to a choked squeak before he got it under control. The smell of blood and ocean filled his nose and he fought down the urge to vomit. His head pounded and he blinked back tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He was so sick of this. So sick of everything. Rolling out of bed he blindly searched for his glasses. He needed a cigarette. He’d wake one of the assholes if he had to. He sat for a minute to gather himself before reaching for his crutch. Before he could open the door however he heard soft music playing from somewhere outside.

Michael glanced at the clock on the desk. 3 am. Who the fuck was still awake at 3 am?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses as to who it is? ;)


	13. Chapter 13

Instead of opening the door like he normally would have he set his crutch down and slowly turned the knob. It was a painstaking process, but eventually he heard the small click indicating the latch opened. He took a deep breath and held it as he slowly cracked open the door. He didn’t poke his head out, instead choosing to peer through the crack. Because of the open floor of the penthouse, he could get a semi clear look into half of the living room and a part of the kitchen from the hallway.

The living room lights were shut off, but the kitchen lights were dimmed. It cast a soft glow in the conjoined rooms. He saw the broad back of Ryan, but that wasn’t what was making his heart run a thousand miles a minute. It was the arms wrapped around his shoulders. From the moment he had met Ryan, there was no way in hell Michael pegged him to have anyone special in his life. He sort of figured Ryan was a recluse crazy cat person. Who maybe murdered his cats for shits and giggles once in awhile to thin the herd. But here he was.

None other than Jack himself was slow dancing and blushing like a bride with the notorious Vagabond. In a kitchen. At 3 am. What. The. Fuck. Michael couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sickeningly sweet scene before him. It made his heart lurch painfully in his chest. They stared into each others eyes in a way that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but loving. 

What about Ramsey? He was almost certain he and Jack were in a relationship. The way they gravitated toward each other. How protective Jack was of him. The way Jack always seemed to be aware of Ramsey whenever he was in a room. The way they looked at each other when they thought no one was looking. It was kind of frustrating how goddamn human they all were. And Jack's reaction any of the time Michael had asked or mentioned it…. It didn't make any sense. 

Was Jack cheating on him? There was no fucking way. In his own penthouse? Michael almost had a heart attack when Ryan leaned down and _nuzzled_ Jack in the crook of his neck. Jack laughed and ran his fingers through Ryan’s longer hair. He turned and lightly kissed Ryan on the cheek. Holy. _Shit_. His hand flew to his mouth. He was hallucinating. That was the only explanation for the scene in front of him. Gavin did something freaky with his cigarettes. This wasn’t happening right now. _Ryan?_ with _Jack?_. No fucking way.

He backed away closing the door and allowed himself to freak out a little. It felt like he was intruding on the scene. Too many emotions were filling him at once.

_Kdin wouldn’t stop laughing. And this was no laughing matter. But every time he tried to say as much she only laughed harder._

_“Oh my god, you punched him? That was your reaction? He finally grew some balls and kissed you and you react by punching him in the face and running away? That’s fucking hilarious. I can’t believe I wasn’t there to see that. I was wondering where the hell your shoes went. ” She hunched over the console and slammed her hand down a few times._

_“I’m glad my emotional turmoil amuses you asshole” Michael groaned from the floor of the van._

_“You are both idiots. So fucking dumb. Ah...this is great…” she wiped a tear from her eye and grinned down at his prone form._

_“Not. Helping.”_

_“Sorry, sorry. I told him he needed to be clear about his intentions but I never would have thought he’d get a punch in the face for his trouble.”_

_Michael sat up and scowled at her._

_“You fucking knew he wanted to bone me this whole time and you kept your mouth shut? Jesus you’re a terrible friend. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”_

_She gave him her best “are you fucking serious look”_

_“Yeah, like I tell you shit anyway.”_

_He opened his mouth to retort but closed it after a second. She had him there._

_“Well what the fuck do I do?”_

_She was about to say something until movement on one of her monitors caught her eye. She looked over and frowned._

_You’ll have to figure it out some other time, our target just arrived on the premises.”_

He bit his lip, repressing the memory. The urge to leave the room grew. He had one of two options. One, he could be a nice guy and let them have their moment. Or two, he could be a complete dick and ruin their moment by going out there. Considering the situation he was in he wouldn't feel bad in the least doing so. 

He looked back at the bed. The idea of trying to fall back asleep on the thing made it look menacing. The small amount of light from the alarm clock suddenly looked eerie as it cast shadows through the room. He shuddered. He knew it was all in his head, but the room suddenly took on a sinister feel he couldn't shake.

He put his hand on the doorknob and hesitated.  
The happy look on Jack's face flashed through his mind. A total contrast to the ever present look of anxiety he had come to get used to seeing.

_Things would be so much easier if they were...I don’t know why you did what you did...but for whatever reason that it was...thank you. I think I at least owe you that much.”_

God damnit. He was such a pushover. His grip tightened on the doorknob before letting it go. Michael sighed, going back to the bed. Fuck it. Wouldn't be the first time he stared at a wall all night.

* * *

He was staring. Jack knew he was staring. He couldn’t help it. Being wrong was throwing him for a loop. He was wrong about things all the time…. but he was so _sure_ about this one. Michael was so deep in thought about it he didn't even speak to Gavin when prodded. Gavin frowned at him from across the kitchen island, clearly not happy about being ignored. 

It was all Michael's sleep deprived brain could do to stay awake. The sheer stubbornness of trying to solve the puzzle was the only thing keeping him from having an outburst. 

“You don't look so good dude.” 

He flipped off Ray, but maintained his silence. Jack shifted uncomfortably as he tried to avoid making eye contact.

“Are you sure you're all right there Michael?” Gavin added.

Ryan walked into the kitchen and breezed by behind him. 

“Leave him alone Gavin. Who knows what idiotic things he could be thinking about.”

He didn't bother rising to the bait. He could see Jack and Ryan make eye contact out of the corner of his eye.

Where they in a three way relationship? Was Jack cheating on Ramsay? Pining? Was it an open relationship? He didn't even notice Ramsey shuffling by until he pecked Jack on the cheek. Jack sputtered and almost spilled his coffee. Ramsey to his credit looked too tired to care about the stares from around the island he was getting. He shrugged at Jack.

“What? You already told me the kid knew we were together. Almost at the cost of a really nice pitcher I might add. No point in hiding it now.” 

Michael dropped his toast. His mind kicked into overdrive.

What the _fuck_? Did he drop straight into a rom com overnight? This couldn't be happening. Nope. He refused to accept it. But then….he looked over at Ryan. He knew he was a piece of shit, but that big of a piece of shit? I mean, they were all criminals, but to cheat on one another? That was low. Michael couldn't help but be a little angry about it. Michael to his credit did not like a lot of people. There were just lines you didn't cross. Cheaters? Near the top of the list of people he loathed. For the first time that morning he spoke. Anger laced his tone as he glared at Ryan. 

“Together? Is that so? Didn’t peg Ryan for a fucking homewrecker. But I guess being the Vagabond means you have no morals. Can't say I’m surprised. Jack though. Now that's a real shocker.” 

Jack blushed so hard his whole face lit up a shade Michael wasn't sure was possible to achieve until now. It would be funny if it weren't for the circumstances. Ramsey stared between Ryan and Jack open mouthed. He didn't look hurt….just surprised. That was weird. It kind of made him even angrier. When you find out your second in command is cheating on you your reaction isn't to be surprised. He knew it was none of his business and his anger was irrational, but he couldn't seem to get his mood swings under control. 

“What? Nothing to say about it? They're fucking around under your nose and your gonna just stand there?”

“Michael, dude, it's not what you think-”

“I think it is exactly what I think Ray. Look at him. He is just standing there like a moron. Holy shit and you say I-”

Gavin interrupted, “Michael, boi, just listen-”

He turned on Gavin, his anger seeping out uncontrollably.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Boy was it? I don't know where you get off calling me your boy but I'm sure as hell not your _boy_.

Gavin blushed and tried to recover, saying something about an i. Michael was having none of it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people? Ryan and Jack are fucking around and Ramsay has got nothing to say about it, Ray is sitting here trying to defend it, and Gavin thinks we’re fucking friends all of a sudden? Am I in the twilight zone? Have I been drugged?”

Before he could work himself into more of a temper Gavin stood up abruptly. He walked over to Ramsey and grabbed his tee shirt, dragging him down. He planted a kiss right on his mouth. Michael's next words died in his throat. Gavin continued around the table, kissing Jack, then Ray, and stopping next to Ryan.

“No use trying to hide it now I suppose. We’re all together mate. One unit.”

Silence descended on the kitchen. They all stared at him, waiting for his reaction. He was speechless. The magnitude of what he had done on the roof hit him full force.

He couldn't do it. To Ray or Gavin. He had saved the rest because he thought it would increase the chances of Ray and Gavins survival. Turns out if even one of them died it would have broken them all. And he had saved them. All of them. Did Sawyer know? She had to have known. The true intent of the operation was to break them. If she could ensure at least one died….and he had fucked it all up. He covered his face with one of his hands. 

Laughter bubbled up from deep inside him. He couldn't help it. Not only did he fuck over his crew, he fucked it over so bad that Sawyer had to be coming for him. There was a traitor in the Fakes. He didn't know who, but he knew they were still here. And they also had to know he was here. 

He saved their fucking relationship. He thought he was doing one small good thing, for Miles, and it turns out it was fucking huge. Hysterical laughter escaped him. He couldn't stop it. He knew he was slap happy. He couldn't bring himself to care. How had his life become so fucked? He knew the answer. He knew it deep in his bones. 

“I can't…..do you realize….oh my god….!”

They were looking at him like he had gone mad. He couldn't help that his mood and shifted so suddenly. It was just too damn comical how badly he had fucked up the Corpirate on complete accident. Gavins phone dinged from beside Ryan. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it. His jaw dropped and he looked up at Michael.

“What…?”

Ray leaned over and looked at Gavins phone. His eyes widened. 

“Thats a lot of money.” He whistled.

Ramsey walked over and snatched the phone out of Gavin's hand. His eyebrows pulled down as he quickly read over the information on the screen. He looked up at Michael, shifting his expression. Putting the phone down he slid it over to him. Michael moved his hand and looked down at the screen. 

It was a dark net website predominantly listing hit contracts. He was looking at a picture of himself. He remembered when it was taken, and who exactly had taken it. A few months ago he had been messing around with a prototype minigun in the parking lot of the Corpirate. He was in the middle of taking it apart when he heard Kdin approaching. 

He looked up and flipped her off as the flash of her camera went off. She'd been trying to sneak up on him all week to get an incriminating photo of him doing something stupid. Though he suspected she was just saying that as an excuse to hang around. She never ended up revealing to him the real reason she was taking the photos. 

He scrolled down, ignoring the implications of what that photo being made public meant. He raised an eyebrow as he took in the information. The contact info was definitely through a third party broker.

> WANTED  
>  MICHAEL JONES  
>  5’9”  
>  MERCENARY FOR HIRE  
>  EXTREMELY DANGEROUS  
>  LAST KNOWN LOCATION: LOS SANTOS, SAN ANDREAS  
>  REWARD:  
>  1 MILLION DOLLARS DEAD  
>  3 MILLION ALIVE

Sawyer didn't waste time did she? Must be a bitter pill to swallow to have to rely on guns for hire to make sure he was dead. He thought again about the traitor planted in the Fakes. Did Ramsey know? He had to at least have a suspicion. Whoever they were, they didn't fuck around that was for sure. He had only been around the penthouse for a little over a week....and mercenary for hire? Why would Sawyer want to hide what his job was? He understood hiding who he worked for, but what he did was harmless info wasn't it? Why did she want people to think he was a gun for hire?

The guys had started talking. They were clearly rattled to not give a shit he was sitting there. They were speaking pretty candidly.

“He is too much of a liability now. We can't keep him around.” 

“Why a bounty now? That's a huge chunk of change for one guy.”

“Does the police know? What about that detective we hired Barb-”

“Shut up, not here!”

Michael considered the photo and ignored the conversation. It was a very specific photo to have been posted here. Kdin kept her shit under lock and key… He looked up at Gavin. 

“Who the fuck sent this to you?”

Gavin looked like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He sheepishly took his phone back. He looked really reluctant to answer.

“Well….when you told us your name...I did some looking around. Made a program to send me any info on the web about a Michael Jones matching your description from Jersey. Nothing came up. Every time I got a hold of something it bloody disappeared before I could get a proper look.”

Gavin’s face twisted in frustration before looking back down at his phone. 

“This is the first time something has come up from my program that's not been deleted right away.”

Michael looked down. What the fuck was Kdin doing? Was she covering for him? If she got caught the repercussions would be huge. What the fuck was she thinking? Why allow this to be sent over? What was she playing at? Was she trying to send a message to him? If so what was it? Was this an elaborate trap being set up?

Ramsey’s voice rose above everyone else's.  
He looked straight at Michael and addressed him.

“This has gone on long enough. We aren't playing defense anymore. You aren't gonna tell us about what the fuck is going on in my city, but we are sure as hell going to find out. And your ass is gonna work to live. Your life isn't our priority. If you can't keep up,you die. That's how we're going to handle you. If anything goes wrong, you're the first ass under the bus.”

Michael scowled at him. He looked unfazed by the expression and continued. 

“Whatever you've done, whoever you pissed off, you've become valuable to us now. You are going to be our bargaining chip. Resist, cause trouble, try and contact anyone, and your head is going to be financing this crew. I can't afford to have someone here shooting the shit with you all day. If we are lucky someone will get tired of you and shoot you, until then, you're gonna be running missions with us. Remember, one of us dies, and you go down with us.”

Ramsey swept out of the room with his mug of coffee. What a goddamn drama queen. He looked over at Jack, and leered at him.

“So. How long you been fucking your crew?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of you guys were half right! Ryan AND Jack :) PhantomTyper came close, Ray almost made an appearance!
> 
> If you are curious as to what song Ryan and Jack were listening to it was Stand By Me-Ben E. King


	14. Chapter 14

The familiar red head in front of him adjusted the brace, ignoring the indignant shout Michael gave at the sudden movement. Michael supposed he should be thankful. He had almost started dosing at the peace and quiet the room offered. His nightmares hadn't really improved much since his transition from stationary prisoner to mobile prisoner. A few measly hours a night was starting to wear on him a bit. He considered the merits of requesting a sleep aid from the girl looking him over. He couldn’t for the life of him remember the red heads name. Leslie? Libby? Though he swears she introduced herself last time they met….oh well. He let his free leg swing back and forth over the table he was sitting on. Normally he let his leg bounce, but that wasn’t possible with the position he was in.Tapping his fingers on his leg only served to get him glared at, so he stopped that too.

“You should be able to walk around normally, but no running. This brace is more flexible than the last one but don't go crazy with it or you'll end up back at square one.”

They sat in a small room nestled in the back of a drugstore. He recognized the neighborhood from his old map as Little Seoul. The hadn't traveled far from where the penthouse was in the heart of downtown Los Santos. Ramsey and Ray were talking to a dirty blond haired man off in another room. He could only assume the pharmacy inside the drugstore was a front of some kind, but not imperative to the business. Not if they were willing to show it to him anyway.

It was the first time he had been allowed outside the penthouse since Ramsey made his announcement. His crutches had been called a liability. As much as Rasmey wanted to boot him to the wolves to see who would come biting at the bounty, it was argued that they should wait until he could at least walk unhindered. He tried to disguise his excitement at leaving the penthouse, though he strongly suspected Ray had picked up on it. 

He kept asking Michael all these stupid questions about where he wanted to go. They had already made a shopping stop for new clothes. They were admittedly getting tired of having to wash clothes every other day for his sake. He never let Ryan's hoodie out of his sight. He made it a point to wear it every time the guy was around. Ryan glared at him every time he did, but otherwise said nothing on the matter. Small victories.

The redhead looked up and caught his eye. She frowned up at him. “You look more like a zombie than the last time I saw you. If that's even possible.”

“Gee thanks. Glad I don’t live to care about what the fuck you think.” He sniped sarcastically.

Instead of rising to the remark like he thought she would, she only leaned in and narrowed her eyes at him. Before he could react she poked him in the middle of his forehead. It was hard enough to push his head back at little. Michael slapped his hand over his forehead and glowered at her. How the fuck did she get under his guard so fast? Sneaky bitch.

“What the fuck was that for?”

She scrutinized him for a moment. He didn’t like the look. It made him feel like a child being chastised and he hadn’t even done anything. She didn’t say anything before giving him a final once over.

“Do what I said about the knee. I don’t do broken bones and Caleb’s fucking busy enough as it is.” she turned away from him and began packing away her things. Who the hell was Caleb and why should Michael care that he was busy? Ray peaked into the room.

“Ready to go when you are dude.”

Michael almost scoffed. Like they would wait around for him to get done with whatever he was doing anyway. He hopped off the table and tested his leg tentatively. It held his weight okay, but it definitely felt weaker than the other. He frowned a bit as he took a couple of steps. He really didn't want to eat tile in front of...whatever her name was. His pride was wounded enough as it is being dragged around. It held up okay. The brace was doing a good job of supporting around some of the more tender parts.

He made it a point to ignore Ray’s stupid smile and brushed past him. There was nothing to be happy about. It's not like it changed his situation any. Ramsey and the dark haired blond were just finishing up their conversation when they entered the room. 

“Well when you find out, let me know.” Ramsey trailed off upon seeing Michael. He grabbed the bag at his feet and gestured at Ray to take it to the car. The blond mock salute Ramsey before moving to pick up his own bag.

“Will do boss man.”

“How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?” Ramsey groaned.

Michael smiled a little but quickly stopped when Ramsey noticed. Didn't want him getting any funny ideas. They stepped out onto the street. But instead of walking to the car like he expected them to they head down the sidewalk. He hesitated. There was a camera radius he recognized down the street. He mentally pulled up his map of Los Santos. It wasn't an area the Corpirate was heavily invested in as far as he could remember….but he also wasn't sure who was watching. Ray noticed he wasn't following and looked back.

“What's up dude? Your leg bothering you?”

Michael bit his lip. How much should he reveal? Self preservation warred with the need for secrecy. He didn't want a firefight in the middle of the street, but he also didn't want it getting back to Gavin how he had disappeared for so long before. The guy was tireless about asking about it when the guys left them alone on the rare occasion. He wished Geoff was more forthcoming about what had been happening on the outside since he'd been secluded to the penthouse. Though he couldn't blame the guy for being tight lipped. 

“This the first time you physically walked down the street since….. you know. The grocery store?” There. Not too revealing. 

Ramsey narrowed his eyes at Michael from beside Ray. It was a fair reaction. The question sounded shady even to Michael.

“The hell does it matter?”

“Not to sound fucking crazy. But. For posterity purposes maybe you assholes should just use the car.” 

Ramsey walked into his bubble. It was uncomfortable to say the least. He was getting tired of doing this dance with everything he said. Was it too much to ask to not get caught walking unarmed down the street? It was his ass with the bounty after all.

“Somethin’ you not telling us kid?” 

The question was more mocking and almost challenging than it was inquiring. Michael had decidedly not liked the tone. He wasn't sure if they were cocky or just ignorant. Dark zones weren't common knowledge anyhow. If anyone would have asked him about it a year ago he would have told them to take their tin foil hat and shove it up their ass too. Even if the Corpirate was watching (Which he was sure they were) he also knew Gavin was watching as well. He would let Ramsey know if there was something coming their way. Michael was just being unreasonably paranoid.

“You know what? Never mind. Let's just fucking go. Lead the way _boss_.”

Ramsey stared at him for a moment before slowly stepping forward.

“Don't call me that.”

Michael smirked as they continued down the street. Michael only winced a little when they walked by the traffic camera, but otherwise no one paid him any mind. Which was fine by him. He was too busy looking around. Little Seoul wasn't a bad looking area. He might even go as far as to say some of the buildings looked quite nice. Not like some of the other areas of town he had been in. It wasn't Vinewood by any means, but he could see why the Korean population liked it here.

In his observations he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A glimpse of a shadow ducking around a corner. He stopped and frowned. Where they being followed? He kept catching movement in his peripherals whenever he stopped paying attention. He was walking behind the other two, who were mid discussion about some new gun hitting the market. They wouldn't be able to see anything. Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He didn't like this. At all. He really regret not putting up more of a fight about the car. 

He full on stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Ramsey was the first to notice his abrupt stop this time. He could tell his patience was wearing thin. 

“Seriously? What now? We got shit to do today if you haven't noticed.”

Michael didn't answer, just squinted down the street. Was that person just staring at them? He rubbed at his eyes. He could have swore there was a person just standing there. There was wasn't there? There was no way there wasn't. He wasn't going crazy. They were being followed. Someone was about to corner them. 

“Call Gavin. I think we're being followed.”

Ramsey looked at him dubiously. Michael scowled. 

“Or don't. I'd love to be riddled with bullets today. Always been my dream to be made into swiss fucking cheese.”

Ray pulled out his phone and dialed a number. He was keeping an eye on Michael out of the corner of his eye. After a moment someone must have picked up. He could hear the small voice from the phone but couldn't make out what was being said. He could only assume it was Gavin. 

“Hey. Anything?”

Ray tilted his head, indicating he was listening to whatever was being said on the other end. He frowned and looked back at Michael, a little more concern in his eyes. They were clearly talking about him instead of the problem at hand. He tried not to be irritated at that. 

“Alright. Keep us posted.”

He hung up and addressed Ramsey. Who looked all for the world like he had just about enough of whatever game he thought Michael was playing. 

“Gavin says there is nothing out of the ordinary that he's seen….” He trailed off and glanced at Michael, leaving off the last part of what he was going to say.

“I'm not goddamn crazy! I swear to god there's someone fucking lurking around here!”

“Its Los Santos. Everyone in this city lurks. And if what you're saying is right and you aren't bat shit like I think you are, standing in the middle of the sidewalk isn't doing us any favors. Let's fucking go.”

Ramsey turned around and kept walking, leaving Michael no choice but to follow. Despite what Ramsey said, he was now walking at a noticeably quicker pace. Ray slowed down so that he walked side by side with Michael. He didn't say anything at first, but Michael could tell something was on his mind. He could always tell when something was bothering Ray. For someone who's reputation said he was a ghost, Ray as a person was an open book in Michael's opinion. He decided to wait it out. When Ray was ready to say what he had to say, he would eventually speak. 

“Gavin said Lindsay called about you. She's a bit concerned for you. I kinda agree. You haven't been looking so hot lately.”

That's right. Her name is Lindsay. He could get her concern on some level. Ramsey was paying her to look him over. If he dropped dead on the street she probably wouldn't get paid. Ray was a bit of an enigma though. What did he care? Sure it would be inconvenient if he died, but it's not like he mattered to them. Besides the constant pestering from Gavin the interrogation questions had all but died as far as he could tell. Why they were even bothering to keep him around as prisoner if he was dead weight was a complete mystery to him.

“The hell do you care?”

Ray clearly hadn't been expecting that sort of response. He faltered. Ramsey swooped in to the rescue from in front of them. Michael sort of forgot he was there he was being so uncharacteristically silent.

“Because you're valuable to us. You won't give us information but someone clearly wants you dead. That means you're important enough to warrant someone dropping some serious money on you. We control that by keeping you around.”

Beside him Ray frowned. He looked like he didn't agree with Ramsey, but he didn't offer anything further into the conversation either. Michael was just glad the original question had been dodged for now. He tried to keep any overt glances behind him subtle from them on. He didn't care if they thought he was crazy. Someone was fucking around on the street that had no business being there…. Though he couldn't help the small knot of doubt forming in the back of his mind. What if they were right? Was he really just being paranoid? He rubbed at his eyes again. Suddenly being outside the penthouse was more exhausting than he cared for. 

They walked a few more blocks before stopping in front of a cafe. He was actually really surprised. He was expecting a seedy back alley bar or a club. Doing business out of such a quaint little cafe...he looked at Ramsey’s back. This guy was full of surprises. They walked into the bright little place, but instead of following Ramsey into the back of the place like he expected Ray steered him into a booth.

“Dude I don't know about you but I’m starving. They’ve got the best burgers here.”

He slid a menu towards Michael. Instead of opening it he ignored Ray and looked out the large window taking up the front of the store. He didn’t much care for being in line of sight of the outside world. He was so focused on that, that he didn’t notice the sugar packet being thrown at his head until it hit him. He about had a heart attack as it fell innocently onto the table.

“What the fuck man?” he picked up the pink packet and threw it back at Ray’s face. He dodged it and laughed. 

“You need to lighten up man. I know the situation is shit but there’s no use in worrying so much. Yolo.”

He tilted his head. Why did that sound so familiar? He had a hard time remembering a lot of stuff recently. Looking over at Ray’s lopsided grin it hit him.

“Gavin said that to you on the roof that day didn’t he? What was it...you only live once?”

Ray looked like he didn’t much care to remember the incident, but he nodded at Michael all the same.

“Yup. Yolo. S’like my life motto. Life is too short to be worrying about tomorrow and all that shit. Live fast and die hard. It’s a lot more fun that way.”

Michael remembered a time where he thought that way too. Maybe somewhere inside himself he still sort of thought that way. Though it was hard to have any sort of philosophy on anything when the world was out to kick you in the nuts every ten seconds. Shit is hard enough to deal with as it is. His own mortality wasn’t something he considered very often. He wouldn’t seek death, but he wouldn’t spit in it’s face if it came knocking either. It was just the way things were now.

“Yeah, and what happens when one of you kicks the bucket? You still gonna feel that way? What happens if Gavin lives faster than you? How’s that fun for anyone?”

“We all knew what we were signing up for. It’ll suck. Really bad. But that’s just how life goes. The rest of us will still have each other. We’ll have the memories we created together.”

Michael couldn’t help the irritation surging through him. It was like he was talking to the person he was a year ago. He wasn’t really prepared to deal with a conversation like this. But Ray made it so easy to talk to him about these things. It was easy to get swept up in introspection when the guy in front of you was so goddamn chill. Whether he liked it or not he just naturally gravitated toward him. He had to be careful.

“I think you’re full of shit. You think Rose was comforted by Jack’s memory when she watched his ass freeze like a goddamn popsicle?” He leaned his head on his hand. Wouldn’t hurt to rest just for a second. He made sure to keep an eye on the street just in case though.

“Not at first, but look at the life she lived after. How fucking beautiful was that shit? She lived a hell of a life. Must have sucked at first, but she turned out alright. Had some kids and everything.”

“Sorry to interrupt, can I get you guys started with something to drink today?” The waitress said as she approached. They jumped apart. Michael hadn’t even realized they were leaning so close to each other from each side of the table.

Ray glanced at the menu for a second before ordering a mellow yellow. He grinned when Michael ordered a diet coke. He wouldn’t confess to why, much to Michael irritation. The rest of the conversation devolved into debating if Rose’s life would have been better if Jack had lived. They were in the middle of falling apart over a stupid joke Ray had made when the waitress arrived with the food. Ramsey wasn’t far behind her. He sat next to Ray and stole one of his fries.

“What’re you assholes talking about?”

Ray snatched the fry out of his hand before he could eat it.

“Dude you gotta agree with me. Rose’s life wouldn’t have been that much more epic if Jack survived the Titanic. She made it awesome, not Jack. Would have been the same outcome either way ammiright?”

Ramsey only shrugged, reaching around Ray to take another fry and popping it into his mouth before Ray could retaliate.

“Dunno. Never seen it. But I’m sure you’re right.”

“Are you fucking serious Ray? First Gavin and now this shit? What have you been doing with your life? This is a fucking travesty. You are a horrible boyfriend. How could you have let him not see Titanic?”

Ray to his credit looked equally as horrified. He looked at Ramsey like he was a completely different man than previously thought. Ramsey looked in between them mildly.

“What about Gavin?”

Michael glanced at the street again. He thought he saw a flash. He answered the question without making eye contact. His focus was entirely on the street outside.

“He hasn’t ever seen Independance Day.”

Ramsey’s eyebrows raised in shock. He looked over at Ray for confirmation. When Ray nodded his mouth fell open.

“How has he never seen Independance Day?”

The flashing never occurred again. He rubbed his eyes for what felt like the millionth time. Maybe he needed new glasses. The sooner they got back to the penthouse the better. There was only so much of this Michael’s nerves could take. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them. 

He wasn’t crazy….was he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatchu think? Michael going a bit crazy or nah? Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter out. Been working on some side projects I'll share with you guys when done. Can't wait to share! 
> 
> Song for this chapter: Stone Sour-Through The Looking Glass


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I don't generally like to put warnings in front of chapters. Most of you here who love FAHC aren't squeamish by graphic shit. But I realized it would be unfair of me to make that assumption of all of you. So there is some dark stuff in this chapter. It's fairly easy to see where it starts and ends imo, but tread with care. You'll also notice I upped the story to Mature and added some tags. See you at the end of the chapter!

_“I’m sorry I did that. It was a dick move. I shouldn’t have kissed you out of the blue.”_

_Bullets ricochet off of the wall behind them. The whole building was a giant mess of a firefight. The rattling of automatic weapons and the deafening sounds of explosives going off shook the whole floor. Shouting could be heard from down the line of men taking cover. Michael was crouched next to Miles behind a crate, looking for a way out of the shit show that the mission had become._

_“Is this really the fucking time for that Miles? There are bullets flying over our head in case you hadn’t noticed.” he yelled over the sound of a grenade going off in the distance._

_“We could die at any second Michael! I don't want you thinking I'm some sleazy jerk looking to get a piece of dat fine ass!”_

_Despite his best efforts he blushed furiously at Miles. No one had said something like that to him before. He didn’t really know how to react. The earnest expression Miles had while saying it made it all the worse. How could someone say something so stupid with a straight face?_

_“Wha-? You-! That’ll be the last thing on my mind you idiot! Pay attention! I’m trying to get us out of here alive!” he sputtered before quickly turning away. He clicked on his earpiece in hopes Kdin had reestablished a connection. It crackled for a moment before her broken sounding voice made it through._

_“Hello? Michael? Miles? Can anyone fucking hear me on this piece of shit?”_

_“Hey! Kdin! I’ve got Miles, we need an out asap. Buildings gonna blow in t-minus,” he glanced down at his watch, “ten minutes.”_

_A strangled screech came out from the other side of the line. She was clearly not pleased with that timeline. It wasn’t a lot to work with._

_“Motherfucker! Why do you always have to set your shit on such a short timer! You should see the building from the outside! Shit has hit the fan! Your ass better make peace with whatever god you believe in.”_

_He took a deep breath. He always hated it when Kdin got annoyed at them. He would have to nip her rant in the bud before she ranted them to their deaths. He glanced over at Miles, who was listening in on his own earpiece._

_“Kdin, I know you got the chops. Just get us a path and I’ll make sure idiot here makes it out. Death means shit in the face of genius right? We don’t have much time here.”_

_There was a short silence on the other end. He knew he had her on the hook. Kdin always took pride in her work. Defying the odds was basically what she lived to do. Mostly so she could brag about it later._

_“Alright, I got your positions via GPS. Take the nearest door to your left and follow the hallway down to the basement level.”_

_Miles raised an eyebrow before pitching in._

_“Isn’t that counterproductive? This building is coming down. Wouldn’t it be better to try and get out instead of going further down?”_

_Kdin’s indignant shout almost deafened them._

_“Tick tock dipshit! Where you not listening? If you so much as take a step outside your gonna get a bullet to the head. It’s too hot to risk it. Do what I said before you end up crushed. The audacity of you Miles! Get fucking moving!”_

“Michael? Are you paying attention?”

“Hm? What?”

Jack looked over at him from the driver’s seat of the car. He looked a bit concerned.

“I said we’re here. Didn’t you hear me the first time?”

Michael snorted.

“Yeah. Like I listen to any of you. It’s been a good day when I can tune out all of you at once. Let’s fucking go.”

He looked around with an air of indignance as he hopped out the the car. But the truth was he was a bit concerned himself. When did they get way out here? How’d he lose so much time? He must have dozed off in the car some. What a scary thought. The fact that they were seemingly in the middle of nowhere did nothing to soothe his nerves. The only marks of civilization were a handful of trailers and an old gas station. The rest of the area was desert and highway.

“Where are we anyway?” He asked as Jack got out of the car. His concern raised through the roof when Jack didn't respond. He had been acting weird all morning. Michael had simply blamed his paranoia, but something just seemed off. 

They had developed a bit of routine in the mornings. Jack would knock on his door, and they'd sit in the kitchen and watch the sun rise. Sometimes Jack made breakfast sometimes he didn’t. Bit he never failed to make coffee for the both of them. They never spoke much to each other. But the nice thing about Jack is that he was the least demanding. The silence was alright. 

Today however, the silence was heavy. Something was up. It was obvious in the way Jack wouldn't look him in the eye. He didn't pay much mind to Michael anyway, but it was extra noticeable because Jack was making an actual effort to ignore him. His silence in this new secluded area wasn't a good sign.

Maybe they were finally going to kill him. No one wanted to hang out with a dead man walking. Even the coldest people found impending death uncomfortable sometimes. Michael had spent a lot of time watching the Fakes interact with each other. Jack was far from cold. As far as his boyfriends were concerned anyway. 

They walked through the trailer park in silence. Jack was tapping away at his phone again. There was no one in sight, but the trailers had obviously been used before. Tire tracks in the dust indicated recent traffic. Maybe it wasn't a community at all. Who could say at this point.

Michael had distracted himself with making peace with what was about to happen. It wasn't a bad way to go honestly. Better than dying in a ditch somewhere. And even though they didn't try as hard as they could, they never got any information out of him. He was surprised when they came upon a small house nestled in the outskirts of the community. He never noticed it before, but now that it was in front of them it stuck out amid the trailers. It was an old house. The desert sun hadn't treat it well. It was run down and rickety looking. There was a garage off to the side that looked just as bad. Paint was peeling, the windows were so dusty you couldn't see inside, and the roof looked like it was going to cave with one bad sandstorm. It was ominous looking.

When he saw Ryan standing out on the porch in his full Vagabond regalia it all started to make sense. Maybe they were going to try for information, before they killed him. He steeled himself. 

Jack and Ryan didn't say anything to each other as they all walked inside. They didn't even greet each other. They waited until they got inside to even acknowledge each other's presence. There was something off about that. 

“Anything?” Jack said curtly.

Ryan shook his head. He stood with his feet apart and his arms crossed. He wore a dark leather jacket and dark pants. His normal shoes were replaced with dark combat boots. He had multiple knives and weapons strapped to him, and he work dark finger less gloves. It was impossible to tell what his expressions were with the pitch black skull mask covering his face. Everything about him exuded lethality incarnate. Nowhere was the annoying antagonistic blonde that lived to annoy him. The guy in front of him was frankly goddamn terrifying. 

_”You seem to misunderstand something. It's alright. Most people do until they learn the hard way. Ryan and the Vagabond? They may be the same person, but they are definitely not the same mind. You met Ryan. You haven't met the Vagabond. And let me tell you, any enemy of the Vagabond never lives to brag about meeting him.”_

Logically Michael knew this guy and the guy he fought at the grocery store were the same person. But he had a hard time wrapping his mind around that fact looking at him now. He had smacked him in the face with a fucking can. This same motherfucker beefed it in the middle of a firefight, and then spread nutella all over his face just to avoid camera identification. This fucking demon in front of him, a wraith that people had nightmares about. This person who had Michael wanting to turn tail and run and he hadn't even said anything yet. If Michael wasn't there he'd never believe it. 

It was really interesting to see how different they were with each other when they were in the outside world. He couldn't help but remembering that night all those days ago. How tender they were with each other. How Ryan melted into his boyfriend. The slow croon of the music. His heart hurt thinking about it.

It wasn't only Ryan that surprised him. Jack too, had a completely different demeanor. He wasn't the sap that let Gavin throw stuff at him from across the room. He wasn't the quiet guy that sat in front of the sunrise every morning sipping at his coffee. How many times must he have done that by himself before Michael came along? 

No. This was in charge Jack. He was second in command to one of the most feared crew in Los Santos. He was the boss when Ramsey wasn't around. He commanded obedience. Not in the predatory way like Ramsey. But in a strict way that suffocated any thoughts for argument. In a way that left no option for failure. The only time he had ever seen Jack like this was on the other end of a table, promising dark things if harm ever came to his boyfriends by Michael's hand.

For the first time, Michael was catching a glimpse of the dynamics that made the Fakes formidable. He understood why they ruled so large and unopposed for so long. Why Sawyer wanted them dead so bad. He felt the crushing weight of two goliaths on each side of him fighting for dominance in a war he wanted nothing to do with. He was such an idiot for ever thinking he could get out of it unscathed. 

“What about the other one?”

Ryan shook his head but actually replied this time. “Hadn't tried yet. Was waiting for you.”

Jack nodded as if expecting this answer. For the first time since getting out of the car he acknowledged Michael. 

“Need you to see something. Come with me.” 

They walked outside to the garage. He couldn't see into the windows at all. Was this where they were going to do it? He thought through his options. There was no way he could escape with the monitor on his ankle. He would just have to raise hell as long as he could. If he was going to die anyway he might as well take one of them out with him. He frowned. Now that he thought about it….. If it came down to it…. Would he be able to take that step? He couldn't just _let_ them kill him. Maybe he could maim them a little. Put up a fight. But actually kill? It hadn't even crossed his mind. While he was agonizing over that Ryan unlocked the door on the side of the garage. He stepped inside first. 

Michael looked up at Jack. Did he have any last words for the man? Jack gestured for him to go inside first. In the end he didn't say anything before stepping in. If Jack had nothing to say he didn't either. 

The first thing he noticed about the garage was that it was _hot._ If outside felt like an oven than the inside of the garage was a furnace. It was suffocating. The second thing he noticed was the stench. It smelt like blood, vomit, and day old sweat. The pungent odor assaulted him immediately and he had to fight the urge to gag. Ryan was leaned up against the far wall tucked into a corner. The shadows of the garage obscured his upper body. The only light source came from the grimy windows and a single ancient light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Ryan simply stood there with his arm crossed. Michael heard the click of the door shutting behind him. He turned around only to see that Jack wasn't there. He had shut the door behind Michael. He was presumably waiting outside. Fucking coward couldn't even do his own dirty work apparently. 

He was so focused on not gagging and looking at Ryan he hadn't noticed there was someone else in the garage with them until they groaned awake. Michael zeroed in on a man bound by rope to a single wooden chair in the center of the garage. He looked awful. Cuts and bruises both new and old covered his body from head to toe. His was drenched in sweat, his gaunt face drawn in a grimace. His legs were bound to the legs of each chair leg, and his arms were drawn back behind the back of the chair. He looked like a corpse instead of a man for all of the damage that had been inflicted on him. The was a knife embedded into his thigh that bled sluggishly.With a horrifying terror, Michael realized he knew this man.

As the man came to, their eyes met. Michael flinched when he saw recognition flash in the man's eyes. His name was Percy. Michael had worked with him for years. Him and Miles had spent the night on his couch every so often when they all got too shit faced after a party. Michael wanted to vomit.

The transformation in Percy was enormous. No longer was he a resigned prisoner. His face twisted in rage as he jerked in his chair.

“ _You_!” He spat. Blood and spit flew from his mouth as he violently jerked at his bindings. 

“You piece of shit! You fucking traitor! We should have let him shoot you in the back when we had the chance! Scum! You goddamn worthless waste of human existence! We _vouched_ for you! We VOUCHED for you!” he screeched. It was an inhuman sound.

Each word hit Michael like a blow to the gut. Every word was right. Everything Percy said was right. Michael hunched his shoulders and took an involuntary step back. His mind raced to catch up with what was happening. Percy continued his screaming from his chair.

“You know what's coming for you! You betrayed her! You know what happens to traitors. You KNOW. She coming for you! She's already here! Do you understand? She’s HERE.” Percy was all but rabid with anger and smug satisfaction. 

Sawyer was here. She had come here. Of course she would have. An operation of this magnitude? She would have been on the first plane out after he fucked up the plan. There was no chance in hell she would leave following through to Gary alone. With Michael gone Gary would have been the sole showrunner in Los Santos. She would never allow for that. Not for something this huge. A small take over maybe, but with someone with as much knowledge as Michael on the loose and a city with as much territory as Los Santos had to offer at stake? Never.

“We trusted you! We TRUSTED you! You lead us to ruin! TRAITOR.”

His eyes were wild as he toppled over in his chair. He was clearly delirious with dehydration. With his wounds bleeding everywhere and the lack of fluids, Percy didn't have long. He kept muttering traitor over and over from his position on the floor. Michael hadn't realized he had backed up so much until he hit a wall. Percy was just a small time arms dealer for the Corpirate. He knew nothing about the kind of information Ryan was probably asking for. He had suffered all this time for nothing. Because he had nothing to give. He looked over at Ryan, still standing in his corner. He suddenly realized what he was here for now.

They were hoping to goad some sort of reaction from some prisoners they had gotten their hands on. None of them were talking, and something important must be going down soon for them to use Michael to get to them. They knew Michael might know one of them. Might goad a reaction out of either them or himself.

“If you have any shred of decency you'll put a bullet in his head. He doesn't know shit.”

Ryan, no, the Vagabond tilted his head. He didn't move to draw his weapon. 

“Really? Seems to me like he knows a whole lot.”

He clenched his fists and avoided taking in too huge of a breath. He knew how this worked. He knew it all to well. He'd been on both sides enough to know. 

“Fine. Let him bleed out. I don't give a fuck.” He called Vagabond’s bluff. Vagabond stood there, turning his attention to the sorry state of the man in front of him. He shrugged. 

“I think I will. I've got nowhere to be. You?” the voice was cold. Calculating. Mocking. He took another breath. 

_It's all about the game Michael. Negotiations are a delicate dance. Play your cards close to your chest but don't be afraid to show a little leg once in awhile._

He swallowed the bile in his throat. He shut his mind down. He could fucking do this. He pretended to fucking be someone else all the time. 

“Clearly not. I'm a dead man walking moron. But you? You wouldn't bring me out here unless you didn't have the luxury to take your time. I've seen your work. This is just fucking sloppy. It's almost sad. His name is Percy. He is a bottom bitch arms dealer. And you are wasting your goddamn time.”

They stared each other down. Slowly but surely Vagabond pulled out his gun from his holster and moved toward Percy. He had to keep it together. He could keep it together. Don't fucking flinch. No weakness. 

_“You are the negotiator Michael. You have all of the cards. Even when you find yourself sitting in the torture chair you are the one with power. You have the information they need. And when you can't save them all, or you can't save yourself, sometimes a swift death is the best you can negotiate or hope for.”_

The shot rang out. He didn't look. He could still hear the words echoing in his head. Traitor...traitor….traitor....

Vagabond holstered his gun. He breezed past Michael and knocked hard twice on the door. Jack opened it from the outside. The fresh air was a god send. He straightened his posture. No matter how exhausted he was, he would not show weakness to these people. He would not show the Vagabond how much this had shaken him. He braced himself for who he might see come through that door next. 

Every inch of his resolve crumbled when they shoved Matt through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awh sheet.
> 
> No song for this chapter. Till next time!


	16. Chapter 16

Matt’s eyes widened when he looked up and saw Michael, but he said nothing. Michael’s mind worked overtime to come up with a viable solution to this disaster he found himself in. How much was he willing to give for this man? He owed him his life. Percy was already half gone, but Matt wasn’t nearly that bad. Not by a long shot. He looked like he had been roughed up some, but that could have been from the fight he must have put up after. And Matt being as smart as he is recognized a losing battle when he saw one. He probably gave in once he realized there was no way to escape capture. His longer hair was no longer red at the ends, and it was a bit matted from sweat. His hands were bound behind him but that was the only thing restricting his movement. He didn’t look pleased with the smell either. When they shoved him in the garage he had lost a bit of his balance and fallen to his knees.

Vagabond was saying something to Jack for the door frame. It sounded a bit argumentative, but Michael wasn’t paying much attention. Matt tilted his head. Michael understood the question perfectly. He shook his head slightly and lifted his pant leg, revealing the blinking monitor. Matt examined the monitor for a moment and shook his head. His shoulders slumped a little in defeat. As if to say _no getting out of this then_. Matt noticed Percy’s body across the room and looked back at Michael again. Michael hunched a little and looked away. He shrugged, his body language telegraphing regret. The message seemed to get to Matt. He was always good at reading people. 

Vagabond stepped back into the garage. The door shut again, and any chance at helping Matt run away died. Michael squared his shoulders. He would just have to talk his way out. Great. He tried to calm his nerves. Matt’s life was in his hands now. Vagabond walked over to Percy and pulled the knife out. He twirled it idly as he watched the two of them. Neither Matt or Michael reacted to each other. One of them had to make the first move. It certainly wasn’t going to be them.

“Well? You got anything for us before we kill you?” Vagabond addressed Matt first. Matt only shrugged.

“That depends on what you want to know. My favorite color? My favorite food? This list goes on and on. I’m an open book.”

“Huh. Sense of humor on you. Percy over there had one too. Though he wasn’t laughing very much near the end there. Let’s start with who you work for. Simple.”

“I’m a slave to the system. Just like everyone else in this country.”

Vagabond didn’t look pleased with the answer. But it was kind of hard to tell with the mask.

“Not even mad good ol’ Michael here betrayed you? Percy was. Screamed about it in his dying breaths. In fact, Michael here told me himself to shoot him in the head.”

He hated this. He hated being trapped in this garage, he hated the Vagabond. He hated the mind games. He clenched his jaw. The anger in him simmered just below the surface, waiting to rear its ugly head. Matt didn’t seem disturbed by the revelation.

“Michael has always done what he wants at the end of the day. Doesn’t really matter what I think of his choices.” 

Michael could have hugged him right then and there. It sucked that they were probably going to die in here, but at least he could die with someone who wasn’t insufferable. Vagabond took a step closer, holding the knife down by his side. 

“Isn’t that cute. But you still haven’t answered any of my questions.”

“Sure I have. They just haven’t been answers you wanted.”

Vagabond circled around them like a shark circling prey. 

“What did Percy do for a living?”

Matt reluctantly looked over at Percy. He turned his body a bit to get a better look. 

“Percy? Didn’t he tell you? Wow. Didn’t think he had it in him not to break to be honest. He sold guns and stuff. He was shit at making deals to be honest, but he always had decent inventory. Too bad you wasted so much time on him. He didn’t know shit about anything.”

That seemed to do it for Vagabond. He advanced on Matt, but before he could get close enough to do damage Michael stepped in the way. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to let this go down. He’d go kicking and screaming before he’d see someone else get hurt for him. He stopped Vagabond short, not quite pushing him back bodily but coming close. He looked up into the dark skull mask with disdain.

“Matt, meet the Vagabond. Vagabond, meet Matt. The guy who helped me save Brownman and Gavino’s asses with his sharpshooting.” He bent over and grabbed Matt and helped him stand. He never moved from his position between the two.

“You remember that don’t you? Fucking around down the street with Ramsey as Gavino bled out on the roof. I don't know if Brownman or Gavino told you, but without Matt here you’d be in the market for a couple of new crew members. You can thank this guy for covering for your _ineptitude_.”

Vagabond stopped, his hand gripping on his knife tighter. Michael wasn’t done. He pushed harder, searching for a button he could push. Anything to get Vagabond’s attention off Matt and onto him.

“You think you're hot shit killing some half dead fucking loser in a chair? Like that’s supposed to scare anyone here? You’re soft. Everything about you is fucking soft. Sloppy. I don’t know what your fucking game was dragging me out here, but I’m glad you did. I get to bear witness to big bad Vagabond losing his touch. You’ve been fucking up people who can’t fight back for too long. Look at you.” 

He shoved at Vagabond’s chest. The man was built like a truck. He didn’t even take a step back. Michael kept pushing.

“Not gonna fight back? Try me! Try me you motherfucker! You wanna break someone so bad? Try me!” His voice rose as he kept shoving at Vagabond’s chest. 

He kept pushing. He would push until Vagabond lashed out. He would push the limit as far as they would go. He used his anger and anxiety and directed it to what he knew best. Violence. 

“You’re worthless. Everything you know and love will be destroyed because you're weak. You couldn’t even save one fucking guy. ONE guy without help! From the enemy no less. Look at you! You fucking suck!” 

Vagabond snapped. When Michael went to shove again he was grabbed by the wrist. Using the momentum he swung Michael around so that his back hit the wall behind them. His wrist was pinned against the wall next to his face. Vagabond used his other arm to cage Michael in by slamming his hand on the wall next to his head on the other side. Their bodies were inches apart. For awhile they just started at each other. 

For the life of him, considering the circumstances, Michael couldn’t figure out why he felt safe. It was the same feeling he got in the grocery store when Ryan had pulled his knife out with the promise of a weapon. The feeling was so jarring in contrast with his desire to hit Vagabond he didn’t know how to react. The negative emotions in him dissipated with the surprise. It felt like Vagabond was peering straight into his soul. Trying to piece together something Michael couldn’t even begin to fathom. He was so _close_. Closer than anyone had ever been to Michael in a long time. He looked up into the blue eyes he could see behind the mask. He saw Ryan in those eyes. They were bright and furious in a way that Michael knew all too well. Nothing like that flat and dead gaze he’d been getting all afternoon.

Slowly, so that Ryan could see it coming, he raised his free hand. Ryan didn’t move away, but out of the corner of his eye Michael saw his shift his grip on the knife he still held. It was hard not to notice it when it was inches from his face. His hand came up to Ryan’s mask. Lightly, and ever so slowly, he tapped the side of Ryan’s face. Where the bruising Michael had given him had long since faded. The mask felt exactly how he expected it to. Rough but soft, like well worn leather.

“You left my other hand open again. Idiot.” he said softly.

A hand fell on Ryan's shoulder. 

“That’s enough. We need to talk.” Jack's voice came from behind Ryan. For a second it didn't seem like Ryan was going to move. But he relented. They stepped out of the garage.

“Holy fucking shit man. I thought you were a goner for a second there. You got some balls on you Michael.” Matt whistled.

He let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “I don't know how I’m gonna get you out of this Matt, but I'll try.”

Matt smiled at him. “Shoes on the other foot this time huh? Now it's you trying to save my ass.”

“Why _did_ you save my ass? How'd you get away with that? And what the fuck is going on?” 

Matt made to respond but stopped when Jack stepped back through the door. Michael glared at him before stepping up beside Matt. 

“Something’s come up. The others are on their way. Let's go.”

They made their way back into the house, Ryan taking the lead, then Matt, followed by Michael and then Jack. They convened into the rickety old living room. After a moment of awkward silence Matt sat down on the lumpy loveseat shoved up against the wall. It looked really uncomfortable with his hands tied behind his back still, but he didn’t think asking them to untie Matt would go over well. Michael took the spot next to him immediately. Jack paced the living room. He kept looking over at Michael worriedly, only to be met with a scathing glower in return.

_Traitor._

He clenched his fists. He noticed Matt glancing at him, but with Ryan and Jack around they didn’t dare speak to each other. Eventually they heard a car pull up and doors slamming in front of the house. Muffled voices got louder as Ramsey, Gavin, and Ray stepped into the place. As soon as Gavin zeroed in on Michael he immediately got worried. Hurrying over he reached out.

“Michael? Are you alright? You’ve got blood on your face.”

He wiped his hand across his cheek. It came away wet and sticky. He stared at it. Blood. Percy’s blood. It must have splattered. What a visual that must have been. A single hysterical laugh escaped him. Percy’s blood was on his hands. Literally AND metaphorically. Holy shit. He was so done. He promptly stood up, smacked Gavin’s hovering hand away, went into the kitchen, and vomit in the sink. He braced his hands on each side of the basin and let go. Every time he thought he was finished, the memory of the smell, the sound of Percy’s screeching hit him again. 

“Dude, what the hell happened to you?” He felt a hand on his shoulder and he violently shrugged it off, skittering away. Not even Ray was going to help this situation.

“Get the fuck away from me. Don’t fucking touch me.” he growled, wiping his face. He was sure at this point it was just making it worse. It just smeared everything around as he sweat. He hadn’t even spent an hour in the garage and he was sweating his ass off. Ray looked horrified, his arm still half raised from where Michael had smacked it away.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” He emphasized every word with as much malice as he could muster. Ray’s face melded from horror to fury in seconds. He turned on his heel and stomped back into the living room. 

“What the hell did you do to him?” he yelled at Ryan. When Ryan didn’t respond he turned on Jack. “What the fuck happened? Why is he like that? What did you _do_?”

Ramsey was the voice of reason for once. He stepped in between Jack and Ray in an attempt to soothe the tension.

“Ray, this isn’t the time for this. We have a hosta-”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the hostage, someone better tell me what the fuck happened. Now.”

He looked around Ramsey and pinned Jack with his stare. Jack looked away with guilt. A shrill ring cut the tension in the room. All eyes turned to Ramsey’s pocket. He pulled out his phone and shared a look with Gavin.

“It’s them.”

Gavin nodded and pulled out his own phone, tapping at it furiously. Ramsey swiped answer.

“I’m listening.”

The room was silent as Ramsey listened to what was being said on the other line. Whatever was being said he definitely didn’t like it. His back stood rigid and his shoulders were squared. His entire focus was on the floor, his head the only thing bent downwards. His brows knit together.

“We only have one. The arm’s dealer is dead.” He listened to the response. It was short and clipped from what Michael could tell. Jack had taken to pacing again. Ray had his eyes trained on him.

“Proof of life.” Was all Ramsey said before hanging up. He looked over at Gavin who shook his head mournfully. The call was too short to track. He gestured at Ryan and then to Matt. “Take him to the basement and come right back up.”

Ryan complied and grabbed Matt by the shirt, hauling him off the couch, dragging him towards a door off to the side of the living room.

“Catch you later dearest. Your sister says hi by the way” Matt called out, meeting Michael’s eyes. Michael managed a small nod at him. Ryan shoved at Matt, shutting him up before they disappeared down the stairs.They waited until Ryan got back before Ramsey informed them about the phone call. 

“They want the hostages we have in exchange for Mica and Caleb.” he addressed the living room. He looked like he was holding something else back. Michael was a bit shocked to hear this. Since when did the Corpirate deal in hostage situations? It wasn’t their usual m.o. 

“Hostage number one is dead. We only have one to offer.” Ryan spoke for the first time since the rest of the guys had gotten there. He was using his Vagabond voice. A flash of anger flew across Ramsey’s face. He tampered it down though, and debated for a moment. He seemed to come to a conclusion before looking up and meeting Michael’s eyes. Whatever other information he had, he had decided to share with the class.

“They want Michael in exchange. They know we have him. Two for two or none at all.”

“ _No._ ” Ray snarled from in front of Ramsey. “This is bullshit! This isn’t how we do things!”

“What the fuck do you propose I do? They have Mica and Caleb. _Our_ people. _My_ people. What kind of person would I be to chose him over them? Two for two or none at all.”

“Why is the second hostage even fucking dead? We wouldn’t even be having this problem if people would have stuck to the plan. Why is he damn near fucking feral in there?”

Michael would have probably taken offense to that if he didn’t feel so disconnected from his body at the moment. He took their momentary distraction as an opportunity to turn the faucet on. He ran both of his hands under the water, watching as red water faded to pink. The feeling of the hot water running over his hands grounded him, the sting of it burning his hands a welcoming sensation.

What a fucking mess. He stopped looking at the water for fear of throwing up again. No matter how much he stared at his hands they were still stained with blood. He peaked over his arm instead, focusing on the living room.

“There was a last minute change of plans. He said some things….Ryan got handsy. We thought it would be more efficient with both people unaware.” Jack said tiredly. His shoulders slumped.

“What the actual hell? What happened to the fucking plan? You guys had CLEAR orders. I don’t know how much more simple I could have made it. And that doesn’t even explain how he ended up dead.” Ramsey was infuriated. He face turned red and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. 

“He didn’t know anything. He reacted violently when the kid stepped in. It escalated. I had to put him down.”

“Please tell me you let the kid leave before doing it.” Ramsey sighed.

Silence. 

“He told me to do it.” Ryan started to sound a little defensive.

Gavin looked appalled. He had been spending most of his time on his phone tapping away. At this revelation he looked up at Ryan with horror.

“You bloody shot the bloke dead in front of him?”

“Look. You weren't there. You didn't see how that guy reacted. We can stand around all day arguing but we have a choice to make now. Whoever these people are they want him back. Bad. First someone offers three million for him and now suddenly they're willing to part with hostages to get him back. That means something.”

They all looked at him now. Michael understood now. That's all he was to them. A bargaining chip. That's all he ever was. All he ever would be. He had almost forgot. It was his fault. Percy was punishment for almost forgetting. They could argue until they were blue in the face. It didn't matter. In the end he knew what choice they would make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter: Johnny Cash- Gods Gonna Cut You Down
> 
> (Holy crap I'm updating in the morning at a respectable time instead of at 1 am like usual. Weeeiirdd feeling.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to user HiddenLover ;)
> 
> *does the typical "I'm not dead" song and dance*
> 
> Song that helped me finish this chapter: Where The Devil Don't Go-ELLE KING

Michael sat next to Matt in the backseat of what Michael had dubbed the hideous flamingo. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised Ramsey would choose such an eyesore color for such a sleek looking sports car. Jack and Ryan sat in the front seats in silence. They were driving to what Michael could only assume was the swap spot. Neither had said a word the entire car ride, and the air was tense. It was enough to drive Michael up the wall. A thousand unanswered questions hung in the air between him and Matt. But something told him that not only would the guys not appreciate talk between the two of them, but that the topics that would be brought up were ones he didn't want the guys to listen in on anyway. The main one being what the hell Kdin was doing in town. “Sister”. 

He'd only ever considered one person to hold that title. Why would she want to tell him hi? Kdin wasn't one to stick her neck out for people. When he left he sort of just assumed she would cut ties. Not because she wanted to, but because if Sawyer found out they were talking Kdin would most certainly be dead. It was awful risky, that picture on his bounty and having Matt carry around a message on the of chance he saw Michael again. What kind of game was she playing? 

He turned his attention to the desert flying by outside. It wasn't worth frying his brain over trying to figure it out. He'd be dead soon anyway. Instead he chose to think about potential ways he could help Matt survive the trade. Michael could at least make sure it happened in such a way no one else got shot. As long as no one else interfered. 

He recalled the fierce look Ray gave him as they all part ways at the house. The guy hadn't tried to talk to him again after the kitchen, but he had made it pretty clear that he wasn't done with the situation and it would be talked about later. Michael almost wanted to laugh. Like there was going to be a later after all of this went down. He hadn't paid much attention to what the guys had talked about after he left the kitchen. He had instead chosen to plant himself in front of the door to the basement, glaring at anyone who dared get close. But from what he could understand they had a plan set in place. Or at least a common understanding of what was going to happen during the swap. 

Gavin had tried to come by and explain it, but the scathing look Michael gave him shut him down. He wasn't interested in hearing what any of them had to say. So instead Gavin sulked on the couch, casting him an occasional pleading look. Eventually Michael buried his head in his arms just so he could avoid accidentally meeting the brunettes puppy dog eyes. He was feeling guilty enough, he didn't need hurting Gavin's feelings added to the long laundry list of things he had to feel bad for. Eventually he gave up, and didn't say anything more until they discussed who would be doing the swap. 

Matt shifted in his seat next to Michael. His head rested on his hand as he stared out the window on the other side. Another minute went by in silence before it was broken.

“You look like shit by the way.”

Michael looked over at Matt. The guy half smiled in mirth. He nudged at Michael with his elbow a little, trying to coax Michael into responding.

Ryan shifted in the driver’s seat. Out of the corner of his eye Michael saw Jack lay a hand on Ryan’s arm, stopping him from whatever he was about to say. This didn’t seem to go unnoticed by Matt either. He stared at Jack’s hand before Jack noticed. He removed it from Ryan’s arm promptly. Matt looked at Michael questioningly. Something in his gaze was a little too knowing for Michael’s comfort. 

“Thanks a lot asshole.” he responded, sending a tired smile back. “You look like a beach bum without any color in your hair. Stones in glass houses bitch.”

He didn't know what kinds of answers Matt saw in his face, but he seemed satisfied with what he saw. The car ride continued in silence before they finally seemed to come to their destination. It was an abandoned factory that obviously hadn’t been used in years. The area was sprawling with power plants and other industrial buildings, but there were no people in sight. He couldn't say exactly how far away they were from the city, but it was enough that he saw more open desert and mountains than cars or roads outside of the immediate perimeter. Ramsey, Ray, and Gavin had taken a turn somewhere in Ryan's silver car behind them sometime ago. Michael could only fathom that they were set up some distance away. Not close enough to get caught up, but close enough to watch the proceedings.

Ryan turned to them before speaking to Michael, “Matt goes first, he’ll be walking at the same time as one of ours, then you’ll be up. Same tune as before.”

Michael didn’t bother responding. He had been apart of these long enough to know how they worked. Though it was bizarre that it was for the Corpirate. Usually people hired them to handle these sorts of things, they didn’t normally deal in them themselves. Matt seemed to have the same sentiment, judging by the way he grimaced at the location. It was pretty secluded, and there was only one viable way in and out unless you had an off road vehicle. The dirt road they came in on was dicey enough to begin with. 

They all got out of the vehicle, and Michael picked at his shirt uncomfortably, immediately missing the air conditioning of the car. He had sweat through his shirt and it had dried in the car, leaving it stiff and crusty in places. Now it was inevitable that he would sweat through it again. He regret picking out the long sleeved shirt that morning, but he didn’t like having his arms exposed around people he didn’t know that well. They had a tendency to stare. And he hadn’t been expecting to spend the better part of his day outside. Matt rolled his shoulders beside him. Michael felt sorry for him. They hadn’t untied his hands from behind his back, and it had to be really uncomfortable. 

A few minutes went by inside the factory before anyone showed up. Michael tapped at his leg nervously. Jack tilted his head and lightly touched his ear. Michael hasn't noticed before, but the two Fakes had been wearing earpieces. Ray and the rest of them must have been providing them intel on activity outside the building. The Corpirate must be outside. Ryan’s phone rang once before he picked it up. He paused before looking over at Jack.

“That wasn’t the deal.” he answered whatever was said on the other end of the line. He clenched his free hand. Whatever the answer was, it wasn’t what Ryan wanted to hear. Ryan pulled the phone away from his ear and looked down at it, tapping at it a few times and showing Jack what was on the screen. Jack pursed his lips. 

“Whatever they are saying, let’s just go with it for now.”

Ryan tensed but put the phone back up to his ear. 

“Bring them out.” 

He hung up the phone angrily. 

“They want to send both of them at the same time. Apparently Caleb...can’t walk on his own.”

Jack tensed, but regained control of himself. They gave Matt some side eye, clearly wishing they could have done something to him while they had him. Without further comment they walked into the middle of the open floor, Ryan taking point and Jack taking the back. 

At the same time, a flurry of activity could be seen coming from the other entrance. Two figures stepped inside, one stepping around and throwing two others through the door. One was limping heavily as they were forced by gunpoint to walk towards the open area they were supposed to meet. 

“Uh oh.” Was all Matt said as the figures got closer. Michael had to agree. Of all the people to send, they sent Gary. The one person who probably hated Michael the most out of anyone. And he didn't look too hot, and with a sinking feeling Michael sort of felt like he knew why. Half of his face was covered in burn scars of varying severity and stages of healing. The burns extended down under his collar, and Michael could only assume they covered a good chunk of his body. Clearly, his well placed molotovs in the grocery store hit closer to home than Michael thought they had. Gary zeroed in on him, and the look of pure hated sent his way only confirmed his suspicions. 

They stopped just shy of 30 feet from each other. Gary spoke first.

“Well. If it ain’t the twink twins.” Michael tensed. “What? Not gonna punch me out this time Michael? I just insulted the your husband. You know, the one “with the pretty mouth”. What are you going to do about it? No one to back you up this time is there?”

Michael tilted his chin up defiantly at Gary, missing the surprised look Jack sent his way.

“No need. Your face is enough of an insult. Though if I’m being honest the burns are kind of an improvement.”

“We'll see how mouthy you are when we get done with you. Been waiting for this moment a looong time. Always knew you were gonna turn on us someday. It's just the kind of scum you are.”

Michael bristled, but before he could respond Jack cut in.

“What a cute reunion. But we have places to be. The hostages if you would.”

Michael forgot they were there. He was more out of it then he had realized if he had missed them. They were standing right there after all. A woman and the same dark haired blond he had seen the other day stood half behind Gary’s muscle. The man was leaning heavily on the woman, his face drawn and pale. His leg bent at an odd angle, and they were both littered with cuts and bruises. It was hard to say how injured they were, because dirt and grime covered their bodies. One particular cut was bleeding freely across the woman’s face. She was making a valiant effort at trying to keep them both standing, but they were swaying precariously. They looked like a gentle breeze could knock them over at any second. The woman was also clutching at her side, where blood seeped through her shirt. They were both wearing sweatshirts, which was really odd to Michael considering the weather. Were they wearing them when they got caught or were they provided during their capture? 

A sense of foreboding took over Michael. Before he could explore the thought further the hostages were being shoved and prompted to walk towards the middle of the room.

“The eta is off.” Ryan muttered to Jack. Jack’s eyes tightened as he looked at Michael.

“We are out of time. We’ll just have to trust that Geoff has a back up plan” He responded. With a swift movement he pulled out a knife and cut the ropes binding Matt’s hands. He turned to Michael. Jack looked like he was about to say something, but Michael turned away. He didn’t want to hear whatever excuses Jack was about to make for the situation they were in. None of them were his allies. They only wanted one thing from him. He wouldn’t allow them to feed him lies to justify their actions any longer. 

He clapped Matt on the back and they started walking together. The other two were making slow progress. Michael didn’t mind. He wasn’t looking forward to starting to get zapped by his monitor anytime soon. He wasn’t entirely sure if they had shut it off in preparation for his leaving, but he wasn't eager to find out. 

It was at that very moment that all hell broke loose. The sound of squealing tires and blaring sirens descended upon the building. Michael whirled around to see a ton of cop cars barreling down the nearest air strip towards the factory. While that was happening people were coming out of the woodwork and taking shots at each other from each end of the building. Michael thought he saw S.W.A.T gear on some of them. 

“THIS IS THE POLICE, DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND HIT THE GROUND.”

A very loud, very angry sounding police officer yelled from his vehicle. From his vantage point, he could see a few squad cars already parked in front of the factory. Gary swore from his side and pulled out a device. Michael recognized it with flaring anger. Before he could yell any sort of warning, Gary pushed down on the button protruding from the side. Multiple explosions rocked the earth below them. Michael didn’t hesitate to grab Matt and throw him to the ground. Not a second later bullets started flying overhead. He looked over to the other two hostages, who had also fallen. He strongly suspected it was more so because of the explosion than it was the need for cover. The woman was desperately trying to help the guy get to cover, but his leg was preventing them from making much progress. Gary and his muscle paid them no mind as they drew their weapons and shot at Ryan and Jack. 

With no time to waste he yanked Matt by the shirt out of the cross fire and ran opposite of the shoot out between the two gangs. He could hear the thumping of a helicopter outside. Pretty soon the police would have the building surrounded completely. 

“God !” He cursed as a bullet narrowly missed him.

He wasn't sure who was friend or foe, and he was weaponless. He was up shit creek. There was no way he could be sure Ryan and Jack would give him a weapon, and he wouldn't sit around for them to collect him like some treasure. He turned to Matt, who was peeking around the pipes the were currently behind. 

“We need weapons ASAP. Can you-? SHit!”

Electricity crackled up his leg and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. He gasped and rolled onto his back as the fire in his leg traveled up his side. Matt dropped to his knees next to Michael, his hands hovering hesitantly.

“What the hell Michael? Are you hit?”

He blinked away spots he was seeing. His body finally relaxed as the last of the pain ebbed away. Fucking monitor. That answered that question. He sat up, rubbing at his leg furiously. His knee felt strained, but there wasn't any pain beyond that. 

“I'm fucking fine. We just need to get a gun so I can shoot this fucking thing off my leg.” He lifted his pant leg. The monitor was warm to the touch. Unfortunately just like before, there was no give.

When Matt seemed satisfied he could stand on his own he stood back up and looked around. Michael couldn't really think all that straight. He was having trouble focusing to begin with, but the shock had clearly knocked some screws loose. Everytime he tried to come up with a plan something distracted him. Matt was looking to him to come up with an answer on how the hell they were going to get out of here, but he was coming up with blanks. All he knew was that he needed to keep him safe. He heard Gary's obnoxious shouting across the room. That was a feat in of itself considering the sheer chaos of the room at large. Maybe the only way to get out was to go with everyone else.

“Okay…. Here is the plan. The Corpirate wants you back. If you run to them now, I'm sure they won't shoot you. Just join up with Gary and pretend to hate me as much as he does. Hell maybe you do hate me. It won't be that hard for you then. They'll take you back. Don't protect me. Tell Sawyer what she wants to know about you seeing me.”

The longer he listened, the clearer it became that Matt didn't like this plan at all. He had a look on his face like he was about to argue. Michael was about to cut him off when he realized the room was starting to spin. Matt reached out and steadied Michael when he swayed.

“I don't hate you dude. It's the opposite actually. I have your back. I always have. I wasn't lying when I said so got shit to say to you man. I'm not leaving until at least after that. I owe it to somebody.”

Michael almost wanted to cry. Goddamn his emotions being everywhere today. Goddamn Matt Bragg. Another explosions shook the factory, and they stumbled. Things were getting more hectic. As much as he wanted Matt around, he knew this was Matt's best chance. His chest clenched painfully. How pathetic of him to cling to someone he barely knew for support. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to start caring about people again. He grit his teeth.

“We don't have time for this. There isn't another way I can save you. Just fucking do it alright? Take care of yourself asshole.” 

Before Matt could argue, Michael ducked out from behind the pipes and ran as fast as he could between the various machinery providing cover. He couldn't force his brain to pay attention to where he was going. He just knew he had to get away from where he was. He couldn't think about anything beyond that at the moment. Police had started smashing through the windows. Michael couldn't help but be annoyed as he had to dive behind a giant metal cylinder just to avoid S.W.A.T cutting off his path. This wasn't usual police m.o. What the fuck were they doing? Why were they so desperate to get inside the building?

Another explosion took a chunk out of the wall down the way from him. The whole building seemed to shudder with the impact. This building wasn't going to take much more damage without at least half of the structure collapsing. Michael crouched to avoid flying debris and stray bullets pinging off metal. 

It was just his luck that as he was ducking a gang member seemed to take cover next to him. They stared at each other a moment before reacting. Michael cursed as the man's gun swung around. If he were in a normal state the man would be knocked out in seconds. As it were, Michael only barely managed to tackle him before the thug got a shot off. He wasn't was successful as he thought though, as pain flared in his arm. The guy was taken by surprise, not expecting Michael to charge at him in the face of a weapon instead of trying to run away. Michael took the opportunity to rip the gun from his hands and knock him out with it.

He scowled as he ran his hand along his arm. It came away with blood. The bullet had only nicked him thankfully. He glanced at the monitor on his leg. It was only a matter of time before he was shocked again. He needed the thing off _now._ He took careful aim at the protruding box that blinked green at him. No need to accidentally shoot his foot off trying to free himself. Ready...aim….

“Back the fuck up!” A voice snarled from his left. Godamnit.

He peeked around the corner to see the other hostages right on the other side of his cover. He could almost reach out and touch them if he wanted. The woman was snarling anxiously at the man she was with. He was laying prone, trying to get onto his knees. The woman was trying her best to help him along, but they were making slow progress. If they hung out where they were any longer they were almost for sure gonna get shot. Still, she refused to leave his side. Michael winced at the sight of the man’s leg. He could relate. But it was also was a whole hell of a lot of not his problem. Before he could turn back to shooting his monitor off another voice rose above the chaos.

“Fuck this!”

He looked up to see Gary pop out from behind a machine and level his gun. It was obvious where he was aiming. Michael reacted on instinct and changed his mind. Fuck Gary and fuck his stupid intentions. Michael wouldn’t let him get his way on principle. 

He reached out and grabbed the dark skinned woman by the back of her shirt and yanked as hard as he could. She fell backwards just as a bullet whizzed by where her head had been seconds earlier. Michael had her half dragged behind his cover as she had fallen. She flailed as she tried to recover her balance and Michael couldn’t dodge in time. One of her hands connected with his nose. His head snapped back with the force and he saw stars. Falling back on his ass he clutched at his face. 

“Jebus woban!” he screeched, blinking rapidly to disperse the tears. She recovered quickly, determining he was an apparent threat. She made to clock him again. While the first time may have been an accident this time she was fully intending on knocking his lights out. Michael waved the hand holding the gun before she could follow up. He had to be really careful, as the floor beneath him felt like it was tipping sideways. He was losing more blood from his arm than he had realized.

“Gab yo ashhole friwend be’for he gesh shot dubash” He yelled frantically around the blood gushing from his nose. Her eyes widened as she turned back to her friend, who had taken to trying to get behind cover where Michael had half dragged her.

“Mica! Are you alright?” he had yelled.

“Worry about yourself Caleb! I’m fine!”

Michael saw Gary recover and take aim again, and proceeded to shoot at him.Gary swore and took cover. Not before he had seen Michael however.

“Fucking traitor!” he roared. Michael flipped him off before ducking back out to where Caleb lay prone. He grabbed Caleb by the shoulder, yanking him behind cover where Mica waited.

“Thanks man.” Caleb said gratefully, wincing as his leg jerked with the movement of being dragged. Michael spotted Gary run away. Looking over he saw why. A dark menace in a leather jacket was stalking in between machines where Gary was taking cover. Michael caught a glimpse of the skull mask before Ryan disappeared behind where Gary had just been seconds ago. As much as Michael hated Gary, he couldn’t fault the guy from running at the sight of Ryan. He would too if he were in that situation. There was no telling if Ryan had seen them or not, but he was willing to bet if he hadn’t he would soon. That meant Michael’s window of escape was rapidly closing. He wiped the blood away from his nose and winced. His nose didn’t feel broken, but it was definitely a near thing. It had at least stopped bleeding as much. Must have just been a cut on the inside somewhere.

“Don’t fucking thank me. I just really hate that guy.” he forced himself to say clearly. 

With that he promptly ran the opposite direction of them. With Ryan nearby he was sure they would manage. Not that he cared one way or another. He got a good distance away before he ducked behind a pillar that had miraculously only taken minimal damage. He had to pistol whip a guy currently occupying the space he needed, but no good thing came without its annoyances. He wasted no time in crouching down and taking aim at his monitor again. He took a deep breath, ignoring the throbbing in his arm and face. Three...two...one... 

 

“Michael?” a shocked voice rang out beside him. He jumped and leveled his gun at the sudden stranger beside him. His heart raced a mile a minute. How had someone gotten this close to him without him noticing? Fate didn’t seem to want him to live a free life, if it intervened at every goddamn opportunity he had to run away. Why couldn’t he just shoot the damn death trap on his leg and be done with it? Why was this stranger suddenly staring at him like a had a third head growing out of his neck?

The man in question looked downright pale. His expression shifted the longer they started at each other. Like he was looking at a ghost instead of an anomaly. Michael had never seen him before in his life. The man was smaller, a bit mousey looking with a mop of longer sandy blond hair threatening to fall over his eyes. They were both eye level with each other, on account of both being in crouched stances. It was a little awkward seeing as there was a freshly unconscious guy lying in between them.

“Who the fuck are you?” he jeered. The man had made no move to hurt him, and had somehow known Michael’s name. That at least warranted Michael not shooting him in the knee caps just yet. Everything about him screamed cop. From his weapon down to his gear. A standard issue police vest covered his chest, and he wore shitty business casual attire underneath. The newcomer looked flabbergasted at the question, seemingly not sure how to answer. He opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, seemingly not able to decide on how to proceed. Another gangster turned the corner right behind the police officer. He had a metal pipe in his hand. Upon seeing them he immediately raised it to strike the officer across the back of his head.

“On your six.” Michael said before swiftly shooting the guy. The police officer flinched and whirled around as the guy crumpled to the floor. It wasn’t a lethal shot, the guy just hit his head on the pillar as he fell. Officer Stranger stared dumbly, looking back and forth between his would be attacker and Michael.

“Again. Who the fuck are you?” Michael repeated, losing patience with the situation. The officer had stopped looking at the guy behind him and had taken to staring down the unconscious guy in between them. The one Michael had knocked out to take over the cover they were behind.

“He isn't dead is he?” the officer questioned, instead of answering Michael's question.

“No he's not fucking dead, I knocked his ass out, and you have two seconds to tell me how you know my name before stairs end up being your worst nightmare.” To emphasize his point, he leveled his gun at the man’s knees.

The man held up his hands in what Michael could only assume was meant to be a soothing gesture. 

“Alright, alright, my name is-” His eyes widened further, staring at something behind Michael, “Hands on your head!” The officer immediately drew his weapon. He looked terrified but his hands were steady. Instead of point his gun at Michael like he expected him to, he pointed it the mysterious something behind him. He realized the guy wasn’t talking to him. Michael felt the ominous presence behind him more than anything. There was only one thing Michael was aware of that could instill so much fear in a person. The fact that he wasn’t dead yet could only mean one thing. He sighed.

“Let me guess, tall, leather jacket, creepy skull mask.”

The guy looked shocked at the description. He was looking between Michael and whomever was behind him rapidly. That was all the affirmation Michael needed. The window of opportunity to escape slammed shut in Michael’s face. Ryan.

Michael was caught between a rock and a hard place. One the one hand, he didn’t want to turn his back on the cop with the gun. On the other hand, having Ryan at his back was much much worse. Michael was actually kind of surprised Ryan hadn’t just ended the cop instantly. From his expression, the cop was just as surprised. 

There was a moment of tense silence before Ryan spoke.

“I suggest you let me take my associate here and leave peacefully. I don’t really have time to waste here.”

Michael bristled again. He was _not_ Ryan’s associate.

The cop’s grip on his gun tightened.

“I can’t let you do that.”

Ryan sighed. In a flash of movement that Michael couldn’t follow the cop was disarmed and knocked out. Ryan propped his limp body up against the pillar and turned to Michael. Michael had his gun pointed at Ryan’s chest.

They stared at each other. Ryan was the picture of calm. He had no visible weapon on him that Michael could see. This fact somehow added to the menacing picture Michael had painted in his head. Either Ryan had lost his gun along the way (unlikely) or he had been traversing this factory with no gun at all. Upon further inspection Ryan was perfectly unscathed. That was as far as his brain allowed him to analyze before the world tipped dangerously and turned dark.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter: The stupid background sound in the League of Legends client, because I wrote this in between games basically lol

Everything was a blur. Like watching a movie on a defective television. Sounds randomly registered as he struggled to hold on to consciousness. The smell of desert and leather. Strong arms wrapped around him. Voices fading in and out. Shouts and gunfire. His vision faded sporadically.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Michael?! Can you hear me?”

“Jesus! What the fuck Mica? How hard did you hit him?”

“The monitor got him at least once I think, we lost sight of hi-”

He was too tired to pay attention. He let himself fall.

* * *

 

The next time he woke, was staring at a ceiling. He felt sluggish. His mind took a minute to process where he was. But he could recognize that piece of ceiling anywhere. He had stayed awake countless nights staring at it after all. He was back in the penthouse. He tried to lift his arm, but if felt like it weighed a ton. Something tugged at his hand. He recognized an IV. They were drugging him? Of course they were. He grabbed at it right as someone walked into the room.

“Oi!”

Michael couldn't remember what happened after that.

* * *

There were voices outside his door.

“Let me through Ray. I need to talk to him. Please.”

“I'm sorry, but last time you were allowed to be alone with him you fucking broke him. Excuse me if I don't think he wants to talk to you at the moment. He hasn't been awake long enough to do much but try and rip his IV out anyway.”

“You don't understand Ray. I have to...I don't know! I just need to see him.”

“I’m-pshhhh-sorry. Going through-pssshhh-tunnel. Call back-pssshh- another time.”

“Ray. You're standing right in front of me.”

“...............”

“................” 

He heard a deep sigh and the sound of retreating footsteps. He slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

“Why do I get the feeling you are the absolute worst kind of patient imaginable? Even Ryan is more receptive to being treated. He goes and undoes all the work afterwards, but at least he lets himself be seen. Cheeky fucker. Can't even be unconscious without giving someone grief.”

Lindsay was muttering to herself, she hadn't realized he was awake yet. She was sitting in a chair messing with something on her phone. It seemed like he was awake to stay this time. He felt considerably better. His face still hurt, and his arm ached, but the world wasn't spinning and he could understand what was going on. The IV was still there. The stand stood next to his bed with a clear bag hooked to it. His hand was bruised looking and purple in some places. She looked up at him and jumped a little when she realized he was staring at her.

“Oh shit! You're awake. Fucking finally. Don't scare me like that asshole. This is great! The guys can stop acting like you're on your deathbed now.” She hopped out of the chair, “Thank fuck I can stop sitting here watching you sleep like a creeper. These chairs are uncomfortable as shit. And they are old as fuck. Geoff needs to replace these things. No one uses that conference room anyway.”

Michael just stared at her. He wasn't really sure what to say. He had a million questions, but he didn't want her to know he was curious. His mind still felt kind of foggy. They must have sedated him at some point. Luckily she seemed content to fill in the silence. She put her phone away and lifted a clipboard from where it lay on the desk he never used.

“Severe dehydration, bullet graze to the arm, Mica clocking you, sleep deprivation, severe low blood sugar, high stress. You sure like to push yourself don't you?”

She didn't wait for a response before continuing. 

“I mean Christ dude, you couldn't even let us put an IV in you? I had to google that shit you know. I’m not a real doctor. I’m only supposed to be helping Caleb with his workload and then he went and got kidnapped. You would have thought we were poisoning you with the way you were throwing a fi-…..oh.” 

Michael leveled a flat stare at her. She shrugged.

“Well. That makes a whole lot of sense now. Didn’t do yourself any favors ripping the IV out twice though. Your hand looks like a giant prune now. If we wanted you dead you’d be dead. It’s not poison.”

Well, that explained his hand. Though he only vaguely remembered ripping at it the first time.

“You’ll be alright. You just need a lot of rest. I mean, I knew you kind of looked worse for wear. I should have said something when I saw you last about your sleeping habits. But I made the mistake of thinking the guys were really paying attention. I’m assuming for some reason they thought not torturing you was the equivalent of watching out for you. And you apparently don’t know how to watch out for yourself.” She rolled her eyes. 

There was a flurry of commotion coming from the door. Lots of hushed angry mutters he couldn’t quite make out. Lindsay rolled her eyes again. Michael had a feeling she did that a lot. She got up and yanked the door open. Ray, Gavin, and Ramsay tumbled through. Ray at least had the decency to look sheepish at getting caught eavesdropping. Gavin’s eyes sparkled when he saw Michael was awake. He looked away.

“Michael! You’re not gonna die after all! Gave us a right scare you did.” He bounded up to the bed and took the chair Lindsay had been sitting in. Michael scooted away. 

“Whatever.” he muttered.

Gavin didn’t seem deterred in the least. If he noticed Michael’s annoyance he didn’t show it. Ray came up behind him and leaned on the chair back. Something about that seemed familiar. Ramsey was being a lot more cautious with his approach, instead choosing to lean on the far wall and look on from afar. Michael couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. The guy always seemed tense, but something about the way he carried himself told Michael he wasn’t the only one stressed with the situation. He was eyeing Michael carefully while Gavin prattled on. What? Did he think Michael would attack them?

“Michael? Are you listening?”

“No. I’m not. In fact I would prefer it if you would just get the hell out.”

Gavin pouted. Michael refused to look him in the eyes. He chose to stare at the wall next to him. The throbbing in his face was getting worse. 

“Awww, don't be like that Michael. We just want to help.”

Michael laughed hollowly, looking at him from the corner of his eye. 

“Help? You just want to fucking help? That’s fucking rich Gavin. Fucking rich.”

The atmosphere in the room turned a little awkward after that. Gavin didn’t seem to know what to say for once. Ramsey chose that moment to intervene.

“Alright assholes. Give the guy some space. You’re crowding him.”

The crime boss walked over and clapped Gavin on the shoulder. Ray looked like he wanted to protest, but Lindsay hand wrapped an arm around his shoulders, steering him away and loudly proclaiming she could beat him at a game Michael had never heard of before. Ramsey pushed Gavin out and slammed the door shut. Michael winced at the loud sound. Geoff looked at him sympathetically. 

“Sorry.”

He had expected Ramsey to take the opportunity to book it out of there as fast as he could. Instead he stood in the middle of the room, looking around. He didn’t look nervous, just curious. Like this was a room he had never been in before. It was a laughable thought, considering the guy owned the place. He never tried to catch Michael’s eyes and remained a good distance away. Michael kept a close eye on Ramsey’s movements expecting him to move closer and sit in the chair. He never did. There wasn’t really anything to look at. The room was basically bare save for the bed and the desk. Ryan’s hoodie was shoved under the mattress for safekeeping. Michael hadn't noticed before, but a clicking was coming from Ramsey's pocket.

Much to Michael’s annoyance, Ramsey happened to look over and catch Michael’s curious stare. He pulled out a tiny black cube from his pocket. It was covered in small buttons and switches, and a metal ball protruded from one side. The clicking sound was coming from flipping one of the switches on the cube back and forth.

“Fidget cube. Help’s me think. Being idle isn’t a strong point of mine. Or so I’m told.”

“Whatever. The clicking is annoying.” Michael grunted, turning his attention back to the wall. He kind of wanted to lay down, but he didn’t want to in front of Ramsey. He could hear the guy laugh. Hearing it rankled.

“Again, so I’ve been told.”

Michael turned so his upper body faced the guy. He tried to glare, but it hurt his face too much. He settled for flipping Ramsey off instead.

“Anyone else ever tell you you’re fucking annoying and your mustache looks stupid? Also, your penthouse sucks, your crew is full of a bunch of amateurs, this city is absolute shit and you’re shit for liking it?”

Ramsey raised an eyebrow, not really impressed with Michael’s outburst.

“Plenty of times kid.”

Michael leaned forward and waved his hands mockingly.

“Oh yeah? And let me guess, you made sure they never lived to see the light of day again right? Cause you’re such a great and terrible crime boss that all of your enemies get crushed under your feet? No one gets away with talking to the great Ramsey like that and walks away unscathed?”

For some reason Ramsey’s eyes lit up with amusement. He bit his lip to hold back a laugh. He wasn’t quite successful. He walked over and set the fidget cube on the desk. It wasn’t until he was at the door did Ramsey respond. 

“Actually no. Most of the people who have said that to me ended up as one my boyfriends.” 

He grinned childishly at Michael’s dumbstruck expression and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

 

* * *

_Michael awoke to the sound of someone shuffling in his garage. He heard the quiet sound of his bedroom door opening and closing. He wasn’t concerned. His bedroom attached to the side of his garage was relatively secure. Only two people had the key. And only one person would be walking in this late. He heard more shuffling and he turned over in bed to see the profile of Miles getting undressed down to his boxers._

_“You said a few hours asshole. You smell like beer.”_

_Miles crawled into bed and pressed into Michael’s side. Michael wrapped his free arm around his shoulders._

_“Sorry I got caught up. I got something for you though.”_

_“The fuck? Why?”_

_Before Michael could react something ridiculously soft landed on his face. He sputtered in shock and sat up. Turning on his bedside lamp he saw the culprit. A teddy bear had fallen further onto the bed._

_“What the fuck Miles? You got me a teddy bear? What am I, some housewife you’re trying to placate?” He laughed and picked up the ridiculous thing. It was floppy and brown, had a lighter face and stomach. The eyes were black buttons and it had a sewn on smile. Michael kind of loved it._

_“I just saw it and thought of you is all.”_

_Michael grinned and wiggled his eyebrows._

_“Really? I’m like the furthest from a bear possible. I can’t even grow a beard.”_

_Miles turned tomato red and covered his face, realizing what Michael had meant._

_“Oh my god! And you accuse me of being bad! No you jerk! Like, you’re all menacing and intimidating on the outside, but once someone gets to know you you’re all soft and cuddly. Like a big teddy bear.”_

_Michael didn’t know what to say. He started at Miles dumbly. Just when he thought he had Miles pegged he went and did this kind of sappy shit. It left Michael feeling unbalanced. Miles coughed awkwardly and blushed harder when Michael didn’t respond right away. He tried to change the subject._

_“So...what are you going to name him?”_

_“What? I have to name him now? What if it’s a she?”_

_“I bought it because it reminded me of you. So unless you got something to tell me.” Miles laughed and rested his head on Michael’s shoulder._

_Michael looked at the stuffed animal sitting in his lap for a moment, running his hands along one of the soft paws. The name came to him easily. Like it was something he had always known. He leaned over and kissed Miles on the top of his head._

_“Mogar. His name will be Mogar.”_

_"Aw, so cute! The great and mighty warrior Mogar, protecting and defending those important to him. It suits you." His eyes widened when he realized his mistake, "I mean the bear. It suits the bear"_

 _Miles back peddled as Michael glared at him._

_His expression softened at Miles when he hid under the covers to try and escape Michael's disapproving look._

_"Yeah. I guess it does doesn't it?" ___


	19. Chapter 19

He stood on the bed, wielding his IV stand like a sword. Ray and Gavin stood in the middle of the room, looking exasperated. Gavin held fresh bandages in one hand, while Ray held a bowl of soup.

“C’mon man. You were knocking on death's door recently. Can you at least let us make sure you don't make a repeat visit?” 

“Fuck off.” He said, jiggling the stand warningly in his hands.

“Rude. I get that you aren't happy with us, but you can at least admit you're tired of feeling like shit.”

Michael could care less. He didn't want to have anything to do with any of them.

“Fuck off.”

Gavin looked hurt. He was clutching at the bandages and Michael could tell he was really upset. Something twisted painfully in his chest. A bigger part of him than he wanted to admit made him feel like just sitting down and sucking it up. At the very least so Gavin will stop looking so pouty. He doubled down on his efforts to get them to leave him alone. He didn’t need this kind of emotional strife for someone he barely knew. Ray set the bowl of soup on the desk.

“Alright. You don’t have to eat it now. I’ll just leave it here. C’mon Gavin, let’s give him some space.”

Gavin looked between Ray and the bandages in his hand. Slowly he approached the bed. Michael tensed. Gavin wasn’t deterred, but he kept a wary eye on the stand Michael was brandishing. Slowly, he reached out. Michael froze, not sure how to react. He didn’t really want to hit Gavin. And really, he didn’t think he had it in him to even if he wanted. He looked away from Gavin’s face, not making direct eye contact. Ray looked on the scene anxiously, ready to pull Gavin back. It seemed to be a common theme with them. Gavin pushing boundaries while Ray stood by to pull him from the fire. Especially when it came to Michael. Something about that made Michael’s heart hurt again. He realized why that looked so familiar. Once upon a time, that was his role. Except he had failed. He had no one to pull out of the fray anymore.

Gavin opened his hand so his palm was face up, balancing the roll of bandages. He was close enough that Michael could reach out to grab them if he wanted to. He was also close enough that Michael could whack him with the stand if he so chose. Michael realized that he had a choice here.

He snatched the bandages out of Gavin’s hand.

Gavin looked really pleased. They left without any trouble after that. As soon as the door shut, Michael grabbed the old wooden chair that sat beside his bed. He dragged it across the room and shoved it under the door handle. He set to work on removing the IV from his hand. It was painful as fuck, and Michael wasn’t really sure he was doing it correctly. When he finally removed the thing, he wasn’t really sure if it was supposed to be bleeding everywhere. Trying his best not to bleed all over the place he took the bandages Gavin had left him and awkwardly wrapped his hand. His stomach grumbled painfully. 

He eyed the soup warily. It sat on the desk innocently. Lindsay had a point. If they wanted to poison him they would have probably done so already. Probably as early as the first morning with Jack while eating the pancakes he had made. Despite what he had said to Ray, he really was tired of feeling like shit. Well. He was tired in general. The only bright side to most likely being sedated was being dreamless. Now he didn’t have that anymore.

He picked up the soup and sniffed at it. After the first bite, it didn’t take long to finish the whole bowl. He didn’t realize how hungry he actually was until he had finished and found himself wanting another. He pulled out the fidget cube Ramsey had left from his pocket, settling in to await the inevitable jingle of the door handle.

* * *

“Hey kid? Are you alright? Why can’t I open the door?”

Michael didn’t answer. After a moment of silence the door handle jiggled more urgently.

“Kid?”

He got up from bed and walked over, sitting down on the floor next to the chair jamming the door.

“Fuck off.”

“The fuck? Did you jam the door?” Ramsey said, continuing trying to gain entry.

“Shouldn’t have left a chair in here asshole. Go away.” he replied. 

That didn’t seem to go over well with Ramsey. He could hear irritated steps fading down the hallway. He couldn’t really make out what was being said, but he could imagine what kind of conversation he was having with the rest of the guys. They were gonna have to break the door down if they wanted in. He didn’t much care for the roulette of people walking in and out. At least before this whole fiasco they left him alone for the most part. Now they were worse than worried mothers. Michael hated the way they hovered. The familiar way they addressed him. For Gavin it was normal (As normal as that was to begin with anyway.) And maybe Jack, but he and Ryan had both been absent. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen either of them since the factory.

Regardless. He wasn’t used to so much people being around him and paying attention to him at once. This was the only way he could get a respite from all of it. Enough was enough.

 

The voices died down. Michael waited. Nothing happened. He kept expecting them to break down the door at some point, but as the day wore on, the only change was he was pretty certain someone was camped out in front of the door on the other side. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard Ray’s voice talking to him. He wasn’t attempting to start conversations. Most of the time Ray just said random things in passing. A bunch of rhetorics that Michael didn’t need to answer. Even Gavin showed up, playing his ridiculous hypothetical questions game with Ray for a couple of hours. When that stopped, Michael heard the sounds of music. Ray must have pulled out his 3DS. Michael forgot just how boring it was sitting in a room by yourself with nothing to do. The fidget cube was fun for a couple of hours, but it eventually became a mindless thing he did just to calm his nerves. So when Ray started talking again, Michael was at the other side of the door, listening. He had no idea if Ray knew this, but he couldn’t see any other reason why Ray would talk out loud besides that. He began narrating the game he was playing.

“I don't know why I’m playing this again. I don’t know why it’s so addictive. Though I can’t complain all that much. Didn’t ever think I would have one of these things when I was younger. The story is kind of classic though…..”

A bit of time past as Ray narrated his journey through the kingdom of Hyrule. Michael found himself sucked into the world that Ray had immersed himself in. It was kind of hard not to when you had nothing to do. And Ray was right, the story was really good. Hours went by, with Ray sitting on the other side of that door. Michael rested his chin on his knees in an attempt to get more comfortable. Ray was currently working through a dungeon, and Michael was busy trying to visualize what it looked like based on Ray’s description.

“Fuck, I can’t remember how to do this part.” Ray muttered under his breath. After a minute of struggling Michael took pity on him. He wanted to get to the next part of the story already. He ran through the steps Ray had described one by one and compared it to his mental image of what the dungeon looked like. It wasn’t long before he came up with the answer.

“You forgot to raise the water level again asshole.”

Silence reigned for a full two minutes. Michael was getting antsy. Ray wasn’t narrating what was happening. He was was about to say something else to see if Ray was still going, but he heard him clear his throat, start to say something, and clear it again before he continued.

“....So. I guess I forgot to raise the water level. Cool. Onto the next part…..”

As Ray kept going, Michael began to think about Link and his ocarina. It would be pretty cool to go back in time, but Michael decided it would be kind of depressing to go forward. To see shit get older, to see the things you love die and decay. And how must have Zelda felt through all that? It must suck seeing her kingdom go to shit just because some asshole wanted to rule everything. The game was pretty thought provoking for how old Ray claimed it to be.

As the story progressed, the air got tense. Ray was preparing to go into the final boss battle. The moment Michael had waited for. 

“Alright, here we go. He knocked the sword away but as long as we don’t die we can get it back….Oh! What the fuck? Oh! Shit”

Michael leaped up from his sitting position. What the fuck was happening?

“.............Um. My battery died. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

What. The. Fuck.

He yanked the chair out from under the door knob and flung the door open. It hit the wall so hard the door came swinging back. He instinctively stopped it with the hand he had ripped the IV out of. Pain shot up his arm as it impacted with the bottom of his palm.

“OW. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK RAY YOU IDIOT. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NOW?”

Ray was sitting cross legged with his back towards Michael. Michael towered over him and glowered. Ray looked up with a mixture of shock and delight.

“I mean. I can always get the charger dude. Its no biggie. We’ll have to start from the last save though probably. When was that?”

“THE FUCKING SPIRIT TEMPLE. You’re telling me we have to start back at the SPIRIT TEMPLE?”

Ray scrambled to stand up before Michael decided to throttle him. He looked like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or run for his life.

“I guess I should have saved a lot more huh?”

Michael grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

“You’re the one that said saving is for PUSSYS. This is some straight up GAVIN bullshit!”

“Hey now, that’s just mean.”

Ray apparently decided that the situation was too comical to not laugh. Michael’s voice went up a few octaves. He felt like he was going to bust a blood vessel. Hours of work and he couldn’t even enjoy the ending. Story of his fucking life. If there was a window nearby he’d be tossing Ray out of it right about now. 

“This isn’t funny you fuck!”

That only made Ray laugh harder. Other laughter joined his and Michael looked up to see Gavin and Ramsey laughing at the end of the hall. Michael blushed furiously and let Ray go. The sudden movement made his hand hurt. He winced, trying not to make it worse. Ray noticed the hand and frowned. 

“Dude, what the fuck? Did you rip the IV out again?”

The mood soured immediately. Ramsey immediately moved toward them and tried to get a better look. The crowding in the hallway made him nervous. Before they could stop him, he moved back into the bedroom and slammed the door again, pushing the chair up before they could get the door open.

“None of your fucking business.” He ground out.

“Like hell it isn’t kid. Just let us see it! We won’t force the IV back in I promise.” Ramsey said, knocking on the door.

“Fuck off! I have the right to refuse medical treatment.”

“Goddamn it kid, can’t you just be reasonable for once?”

“No.” He said indignantly He was mad at himself for getting involved again. No matter how upset he was, he should have never opened the door. Why was he such an idiot? The guys had started arguing outside the door. He knew he was making things difficult. It was exactly what he wanted. So why did it make him feel so bad when they fought? He’d never liked it when people fought on his behalf. It was stupid. He could fight his own battles. It made no sense that they would be fighting over how to deal with them. Someone addressing him directly snapped him out of his thoughts.

“..........Michael? I need you to be straight with me dude. You aren't still bleeding are you? From your hand?” 

Michael looked down. The bandage was dry with blood. The bruising was painful, but the cut itself wasn’t bad. It was a more irritating feeling than anything. Compared to his arm injury and face anyway. He was certain if he wasn't careful he would probably make everything worse. But he didn't see any reason to lie to Ray. The guy just saw him. And if he made it sound worse than it was they’d be getting a battering ram out from their damn closet or something.

“I’m fucking fine. I’m not made of glass. It’s just a stupid cut from pulling it out. You guys fucked up the rest of it.” he paused, wincing on how that sounded. “............And honestly that’s not your fault. It’s not even bad.” There. That sounded better.

There was a pause behind the door. 

“Alright. I trust you dude. We won't come in unless we think you’re dying in there. Please don’t make us come in there by force. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

That was the stupidest thing Michael had heard in a long time. There was no way Ray was going to spend all of his time in front of that door. He didn’t know Ray well, but he knew enough. The guy would die of boredom sitting out there long before Michael let him in the room willingly. But he heard Ray settle back down into his spot. He never started Zelda back up again. Michael tried not to be too disappointed by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have music for you, I think I'm going to switch it up from now on. If any of you have any recommendations for music that makes you think of this fic don't hesitate to let me know! I love hearing new things! Also, I'm not usually one to hype up chapters, but I want you all to know the next chapter coming up is going to be huge, not only in length but for the story as well. So stay tuned. <3 Thank you for all of your comments. I dont think you understand how anxious I am to hear what you all think. I read each and every one of them and they mean to the world to me. Thanks again for all of your support guys! See you next chapter.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, some of the shit in italics is kind graphic. Use your skimming skills if stuff like that bothers you. Just a head's up. Enjoy!

_He looked around. Something about this place seemed really familiar. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but being in this place made him uneasy. The garage light flickered on and off. There was a buzzing in his ear. Looking around, he saw no door to lead him out. Anxiety rose within him when the lights flickered out and didn’t turn back on. He was left with the sound of his own breathing._

_With a loud crack, a spotlight shone on the center of the room. A man sat tied to the chair. Looking at the figure Michael realized with dread that he was looking at Percy. He bled from his mouth and eyes and he stared Michael down. Michael reached out to him._

_“Percy. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”_

_Percy laughed hollowly from his chair. Blood splattered on the floor as his cold dead eyes bore into Michael’s soul. “I’m dead. Because of you. My blood is on your hands. Traitor. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault I’m dead. It’s all your fault he’s dead. You’re worthless. You had one job.”_

_“That’s not how it was supposed to be. It’s not...I’m not...plea-”_

_Percy’s body cut Michael off as it jerked in an unnatural movement. It began twisting in on itself, transforming into something new. The sounds of bones cracking and blood spilling assaulted Michael’s ears. He crouched down and covered them in an attempt to block out the grotesque sounds. Screeching pierced the air as the wail continued. It was by far the worst thing Michael had ever heard. He curled in on himself. After what seemed like an eternity, the wailing stopped. Silence. Another voice filled the room. It was soft. Pleading. It punched the air right out of his lungs. This voice. This sound. It was much much worse._

_“Michael….babe…..look at me. Look at me Michael…..Look at what you’ve done. Look at what your failure has caused.”_

_Michael sobbed. It was a broken and defeated sound. It was him. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Miles pleaded with him softly. He knew exactly what he would see if he looked up. And in some sick way, he couldn’t bring himself not to look. Just to see his face one more time._

_“Michael….this is your fault you know. I tried to tell you. I tried to tell you Michael. And now I’m dead. How is that fair? That I’m dead because of you but you get to keep living? How is that fair? Look at me Michael. Look. Look at what you’ve done.”_

_Michael looked up. His heart shattered. Miles was where Percy had been. Tied to the chair. His skin was pale and his eyes were a faded color. His clothes were soaked through, and his hair clung to his forehead. Like he had just climbed out of the ocean. Michael couldn’t tear his eyes off of him. But he couldn’t bring himself to look lower. To where he knew the blood would be. To where he knew the bullet had entered his body and killed the light of his life. He sobbed harder._

_“Please Miles. Please believe me. I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat. Please.”_

_The face of Miles twisted. He leaned forward towards Michael. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you at all. You did this to me. And guess what? I’m going to make you suffer. Because this is what you deserve Michael. This hell is all you will ever deserve.”_

_A door formed in the wall, and it slammed open. Ray and Gavin stumbled through. They looked bloody and scared. Miles cackled next to him. “They’re going to die, and there isn’t a single god damn thing you are going to be able to do about it.”_

**“Michael!** _These people are after us! Save us!” Gavin yelled as he stumbled closer. Black shadows poured into the room behind them. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to let this happened again. He didn’t think twice about his next action. Michael reached out and shoved Gavin out of the way before a knife could embed itself into his back. Gavin stumbled backwards and clutched his side wincing._

 **“Bloody hell! Ray, wake him!”** _Something grabbed him from behind by the shoulder and shook him. He whirled around and knocked it away. Another shadow was about to plunge a knife into Ray, who was unknowingly standing right in front of it. With a vicious growl he grabbed Ray by the wrist and tackled him to the floor to get him out of harm’s way. His knees braced on either side of Ray’s legs and he planted his palms on either side of Ray’s head to protect him. Ray’s eyes widened in alarm. His cheeks tinted pink._ **“Michael! Wake the hell up dude!”**

_Something solid wrapped itself around his waist. A shadow had grabbed him from behind and yanked him away. Michael howled as he tried to claw his way out of its grip to get back to Ray and Gavin. He fought it tooth and nail, but the shadow was too strong. It slammed him onto the ground and pinned his arms behind his back. Miles whispered into his ear._

_“Failure.”_

**“Michael!”**

_”Worthless.”_

**“Can you hear me? Wake up! Geoff? What the fuck are you going to do with that?”**

_”Scum.”_

Something cold drenched his head. Michael sputtered and flinched away, but something was pinning him, preventing him from moving. His shoulders and arms ached in protest. He blinked away the water dripping down his face. He was….on the floor? What the fuck? How had he gotten there? There was a person kneeling in front of him. There was an empty glass next to his face. Looking up to the person’s face he realized Ramsey was looking down at him. His face was twisted in something akin to concern before quickly disappearing. “You back into the world of the conscious kid? Or am I going to have to go get another glass of water?”

“Ramsey? What the fuck?” he replied. He realized they weren’t the only ones in the room. He tilted his head and saw Ray in a half sitting position behind Ramsey. Next to him Gavin sat, his hand pressed against his side. He was staring at Michael...was that fear? Worry? Jack was kneeling next to Gavin, his hand hovering nervously over Gavin's hand. That only left Ryan. Suddenly his inability to move his arms from behind his back made sense.

“You wanna fucking let go before you break my arms asshole?” he snarled, trying to turn and get a look. Ryans grip on his hands tightened. 

“I’m not fucking above it at this point.”

Geoff sighed and stood up, signalling Ryan to let him go. His shoulders screamed relief as he felt his hands go free. He scrambled up into a sitting position and rubbed the circulation back into them. They tingled unpleasantly. It calmed Michael a little feeling it for some reason.

“What the hell just happened?” Michael asked. They were all staring. It made Michael’s skin prickle. And not in a welcome way. Ray was the first to speak. It was rushed, like he was afraid someone would interrupt him if he didn’t speak quick enough. “Sorry! It’s my fault. I heard you...I mean. I think you were having a nightmare? I was worried. We broke in. Tried to wake you? I’m sorry. We know better. I mean. I know better. We never should have-” 

“You attacked Gavin and Ray.” Ryan spoke flatly. Gavin sat up and tried to interject. 

“No! It wasn’t like that! I mean. It was an accident wasn’t it Michael? He didn’t mean to! Ray was right! It was our fault. We never should hav-” He got cut off from Jack, who had stood and helped Gavin up when he had tried and failed to do so mid conversation.

“What the hell were you guys thinking? You can’t just fucking walk in and expect it to work out! Not after what happened last time!”

Last time? Michael had done this before? This wasn’t the first time he had hurt them? Why hadn’t they fucking said anything? And more importantly, why hadn’t they dumped him for dead the first time it happened? What the fuck was _wrong_ with these people? He was going to be the ruin of them all and they just stood around shoving bandages and food at him! And that was after they had shoved him into that hell hole to manipulate him into giving something away.

“I...this...I’ve attacked you before? When?” was all Michael could manage to say. It came out more strangled than he expected it to. But apart of him expected Miles to walk through the door. Maybe Percy to crawl out from under the bed.

“When you first collapsed and we were moving you. Each time you pulled your IV out.” Ramsey supplies smoothly, looking at him with a calculating expression. Michael wanted to crawl in a hole and die right then and there. Was he displeased with them? Yeah. Did that warrant him being an asshole? Probably. But attacking someone? For no fucking reason? They hadn’t done shit to him since they dragged him here. And yeah, that was probably going to change. Michael even expected it to. But for him to be the first to throw the punch? At Gavin? At Ray? Michael wanted to throw up. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“It’s not like that Michael. This isn’t your fault. It’s ours. Don’t fucking look at us like that.” Ray tried to get close to Michael but Ramsey grabbed him by the arm and prevented him from getting closer. Ray yanked his arm away. “No! This isn’t fucking right! You of all people should know it’s not his fault. He won’t hurt me. He’s awake now Geoff. Everyone needs to chill the fuck out. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is though.” Jack responded softly. Gavin sent him a betrayed look before standing next to Ray.

He straightened as best as he could, but it was clear his side was bothering him. Michael realized it was the side that had gotten shot when they first met. That somehow made it all worse. Gavin looked down at him and shook his head. “Ray is right. You’re all being knobs about this. We were the ones being twats. Not Michael.” 

Michael wanted to cry. Why the fuck were they defending him? None of this shit was making any sense. He could still hear the echoes of his nightmare in the back of his mind. He was tired of dealing with this.

“Look. Can we just hit the fast forward button on how this is going to go and kill me already? I’m getting kind of sick of this shit.” he said tiredly from his place of the floor. He rubbed his face, wiping away the excess water still dripping from his hair. When he looked up again they were all looking at him with varying degrees of horror. Well. Except for Ryan. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking at that very moment. His face was impassive as ever. Ray stomped over and grabbed his hand, hauling him up. Michael didn’t protest at the contact and let Ray do what he wanted. 

“That’s fucking it. This has gone on long enough. I’m calling Trevor.” Michael couldn’t agree more. He let Ray pull him towards the door. He didn’t know who the fuck this Trevor person was, but if that's who Ray wanted to do it he was fine with that. At this point he didn’t care. Geoff blocked their way out. “Ray. I don't know if this is a great idea. It’s dangerous out there.”

“Fuck off. I need to do this and you’re going to let me.” Ray said angrily. His grip on Michael’s hand tightened. He resisted the urge to yank his hand away. He settled for staring at the floor and trying to ignore it. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling to have his hand held. It had just been a really long time since he’d gotten close enough to anyone to let it happen. He’d done quite enough damage to Ray as it was. He could suck it up and let Ray drag him around if that’s what he wanted. 

Geoff let out a long sigh and stepped away from the door. When Gavin made to follow them Ray turned around. 

“Alone Gav. I need to do this alone. Please.” His tone was much more amicable towards the Brit. More like a plea than the demand it was when talking of Ramey. Gavin stopped and stared longingly at them. After a moment he bit his lip and nodded, stopping his pursuit. They walked through the penthouse to the elevators. Ray calling up Trevor and asking him to come by with a car saved them from suffering through the awkward silent elevator ride down to the garage. However, it didn’t save them from the silence that ensued while they waited for Trevor to show up.

Michael tried to come up with something to say. An apology wouldn’t go over well. He knew that much. And honestly, a part of him felt like he didn’t need to. He was exactly what they saw him as now. A violent unpredictable asshole who was too much of a liability to keep around. Anything he could come up with to say seemed really meaningless in the face of that. It was while they were waiting, that Ray finally seemed to remember they were holding hands. He let go suddenly and looked away. He couldn’t see Ray's face, but he could tell the tips of Rays ears were pink. 

Luckily Trevor had shown up at that moment, pulling into the garage with a ridiculous looking mini van. Ray scoffed as they climbed in.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it. This was the best I could do on such short notice. You guys don't fucking pay me enough to drop everything and come running the second you call.”

Ray laughed, “Actually. I’m pretty fucking sure we do.”

Trevor turned to them and grinned mischievously. Michael wasn’t sure what was more terrifying, the fact that Trevor's eyes weren’t on the road or that he was still managing to drive through traffic that way.

“Yeah. You got me. You really do. It’s nice to see you up and about by the way, Michael. You didn’t look so good last time I saw you.”

What the fuck? What was with random people seeming to know him without him having a damn clue? Ray must have saw the question in his eyes because he elaborated. “Trevor was our getaway guy leaving the factory. You weren’t awake at the time though, so I guess you wouldn’t have met him. He’s not as good as Jack, but he does alright.”

Trevor turned his eyes back to the road. “Whatever. Tell Patillo I could take him in a race any day. I gotta earn back that pink slip he snatched from me from last time.”

“In your dreams Trevor. You can kiss that car goodbye, ‘cause you’re never gettin’ it back.”

The whole car ride was like that. Easy conversation between Trevor and Ray. Michael counted his blessings that they didn’t seem to expect him to contribute anything meaningful to the conversation. Michael was content to watch the buildings fly by and change into the vast desert and mountains surrounding Los Santos. He was honestly pretty shaken about this latest nightmare. They had never been that vivid before. He could see it every time he closed his eyes. Michael suppressed a shudder.

Eventually Trevor ended up turning into a forking road that scaled around a mountain. It wasn’t long before they were off roading it, and Michael had no idea where they were. Just when he was sure the poor mini van’s undercarriage was going to be gutted by the rough terrain, the dirt path (calling it a road was generous in Michael’s opinion) smoothed out. 

A small house with a gun range set up next to it came into view. They came to a stop and he and Ray jumped out of the vehicle. Much to Michael’s surprise, Trevor only waved at them before backing out and going to way they came. Ray was already heading inside, and Michael had to jog to catch up before he got a shock. The house on the inside screamed Ray. That was the only way Michael knew how to describe it. The house was only one floor, but there was a loft inlaid on one side of the walls. Half the room was wall to wall with a shit ton of guns. The other half was filled with every video game system known to man. The furniture was shaped oddly but somehow fit with the wood colors. There were wall shaped in different colors of purples and greens. 

“We all have spaces. Places where we can go to be away. This one is mine.” Ray explained, shedding his jacket and tossing it on the floor. He wandered over to the fridge and pulled out a soda. Michael rolled his eyes and picked up the jacket, hanging it off of the back end of the sofa. Ray looked amused when he realized Michael had put his jacket up. He offered the soda to Michael, who accepted it but didn't open it. He just set it on one of the end tables and watched Ray give one of his weapon walls a once over.

“What the fuck are we doing here Ray?” he asked. 

Ray came to a decision and pulled one of the pistols off of the wall. He looked over at Michael and waved the gun enthusiastically. 

“I’m gonna shoot shit and you’re going to watch. Since you know, Geoff will murder me if he finds out I gave you a gun.”

* * *

They had spent the whole day on the mountain, and Michael had to admit that he had actually had a bit of fun. He thought he was a pretty good shot, but he had nothing on the stone cold precision Ray had. From the smooth movement of his quick draw to the way he reloaded, watching Ray shoot was like watching art in motion. Even when Ray was goofing off, playing cowboy and coming up with ridiculous trick shots to show off. Before he had even realized it, twilight had descended on the desert. It was almost irritating how easy Ray could sweep him into doing what he wanted. Though he supposed most of the time he didn’t have a choice in the matter. 

The man in question had turned contemplative, sitting on a large rock a few feet away staring out at the glowing city in the distance below. It took awhile to notice, but there was a drop off near the house. It overlooked the city in the distance. They weren’t as in the middle of nowhere as Michael had initially thought.

"Hey asshole, you gonna make me clean this shit up on my own? Didn't realize I was your slave on top of being your prisoner." Michael called out, maybe just a little bit bitter about the heavy ankle monitor still wrapped around his leg. Guns and ammo lay scattered about from where they had set up camp for the day. When he received no reply from the Puerto Rican he sighed. Typical. Once Ray got into a mood there wasn't a lot anyone could do to pull him out of it. Michael may have not been around long but it didn't take a genius to know when the man needed his space to be moody. 

Plopping down next to Ray and lighting a cigarette Michael resigned himself to waiting it out. Halfway through the day Ray had pulled a pack out and handed it to Michael wordlessly. Even though he had resigned himself it waiting, it didn't mean he couldn't be a bit of an ass about it though. He had to get his digs in where he could, seeing as they were just gonna off him any day now regardless.

"I'm not opposed to pushing your ass off this mountain for ignoring me you know." Instead of rising to the obvious bait Ray glanced over to the cigarette hanging lazily from his hand.

"Those will kill you, you know." Michael raised his eyebrow. He was fucking kidding right?

"You know what else will kill you? Aids. Crack. Walking across the street without looking both ways. Being in a gang. Especially being in a gang. One day someone will put a gun right to your fucking melon and that'll be the end of it," he put his fingers to the side of his head and pretended to shoot. "Bam. All because you're wearing the wrong color." Ray smiled and leaned back so he lay flat, his hands behind his head.

"I dunno man, the last guy to point a gun at my head didn't turn out to be such an asshole." 

"Yeah well that guy was a fucking moron. He's probably a fucking prisoner somewhere waiting to be killed off. And this," he takes a moment to wave the cigarette around, "is probably the least of his concerns on the list of shit that's gonna kill him." Ray outright laughed at that. The asshole. 

Like his life was just some game they were joking about. Furrowing his brow he looked out to the horizon. If he was honest with himself his life really had just become one big punchline. Because deep down, he knew that the city twinkling in the distance would either be his grave or his salvation, and he wasn't sure which one he himself wanted it to be anymore.

Michael finished his cigarette and laid next to Ray. He thought about what had lead them to this point. The roof, the grocery store, the cafe, that night when he had stood up to Ramsey. The factory. Waking up to see Ray on the floor and Gavin doubled over. He winced at that. Ray shifted next to him and turned on his side so that he was facing Michael. He could tell something was weighing on his mind, though he couldn’t begin to fathom what. Maybe he was going to tell Michael off for being such an ass. For hitting Gavin. He certainly had every right to. Michael knew he was being insufferable, but to hit someone without provocation? It made his stomach turn. He owed Ray at least the decency to be civil.

“You know, that waiting to be killed off part….” he paused. Michael couldn’t bring himself to look over at Ray. He wasn’t sure he could handle what he would see there. Pity, hatred? Maybe both. Ray took a deep breath.

“Lindsay told us why you wouldn’t keep the IV in. You know….you know we never had any intention of killing you right? That Geoff was full of shit when he said whether you lived or died wasn’t our priority? I mean, he might have been serious when he said it, but Geoff says a lot of stuff he takes back later.”

He wasn’t ready for this conversation. He didn’t want to deal with this. But Ray sounded so goddamn earnest. Maybe he didn’t feel that way, but who’s to say his boyfriends didn’t? Ryan and Jack had made their intentions perfectly clear when they threw him in that garage. In a way their actions made sense. Once upon a time he might have even done something similar in the name of saving the people he cared about. But the sights, the smell….Percy lying dead on the floor. 

_Traitor._

A part of him couldn’t reconcile that. Even with Ray, who had seemingly nothing to do with what happened. He stared up at the stars in favor of turning his head.

“I don’t know what to think. You mother fuckers are confusing. It would be stupid of me to think that I’m not just some pawn in a game of war between your crew and my…..old one. Honestly, what’s it matter to you regardless? What happens to me is irrelevant. Plus, I’ve attacked you guys. That pretty much makes me one big liability doesn’t it?”

Ray sat up suddenly. He got off the rock with a frustrated groan. Michael always knew Ray wasn’t the best at vocalizing his emotions. But for the first time since he had met Ray, Michael couldn’t really understand what Ray was trying to tell him. He was angry. Michael could tell at least that much.

“It matters because you saved Gavin’s life! You saved mine! Geoff’s, Jack’s and Ryan’s! Don’t you understand how important that is? How significant? Of course what happens to you matters! What kind of person would I be? What kind of person would we be? If we just let the person who saved us die? And maybe the guys didn’t think so at first. That maybe not killing you was enough to repay that. But not to me Michael. Don’t you get that?”

Michael sat up and looked at Ray. Really looked. His hands were clenched into fists and he was shaking. Why was he so upset? If anyone should be upset it was Michael. What the hell did Ray mean that they owed him? They didn’t owe him anything. They never had. Michael saving them was motivated by pure selfishness. And killing his crew had never been his intention. Sure, he didn’t have a real plan had his team actually stood down, but hurting anyone had never been Michael's end game plan. He hadn’t even known Ray or Gavin at the time. How could Ray possibly think that they had to pay him back for something he himself had done for his own reasons?

“The fuck do you mean what happens to me matters? You don’t owe me a goddamn thing. It’s not like you asked me to save you guys. Shit, you didn’t even bother to beg for your life. How could you possibly think you owe me? This isn’t ancient times or whatever. You aren’t indebted to serve me forever or some archaic shit.”

This for some reason seemed to make Ray even angrier. It was kind of scary actually. He’d never seen Ray so irritated before. Well….maybe after they had discovered what Jack and Ryan had done. But that was nothing compared to the look he was being subjected to now. Frustration seemed to pour from him in waves, and Michael couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. He was just stating what he believed to be true. There was literally no goddamn merit to being so invested in a walking disaster like him. 

“It doesn’t matter that I didn’t ask. All that matters is that you did. That I didn’t have to ask. I don’t fucking know why. And I suspect I won’t ever know. None of that fucking matters you asshole. This isn’t how shit works. Not in my world. Not in our world. We have rules.”

Michael got mad. What good were fucking rules when your enemy doesn’t follow the same set? Funny how the tables were turned and he was quoting Ramsey of all people now.

“What kind of bullshit is that Ray? You think if I just put a fucking gun to Gavin’s head right now you would just sit back and let me pull the trigger because you fucking think you owe me? You don’t know shit about me!”

“I know enough!”

“No, you really fucking don’t. Maybe Jack and Ryan are assholes for not following orders. Maybe you aren’t lying and the whole situation wasn’t supposed to go down that way like you said. Well so fucking what? They had the right idea the whole goddamned time. I was the stupid one for forgetting it for a split second. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me. This is a fucking war Ray. You may not see it now, but people are gonna die. People you care about. You don't have fucking time to waste worrying about some fucking idiot who can't keep his goddamn priorities straight. I’m just a fucking worn out nobody who had a moment of sentimentality when I shouldn’t have. Don’t put any more stock into that moment on the roof than there is.”

For some reason Ray looked stricken by this. Michael wanted to take it back immediately. But he couldn’t. He needed Ray to understand. That caring about Michael? Worrying about him? It only lead people down a path of pain and suffering. That he couldn’t afford to let someone get close to him. It only lead to ruin. For both himself, but more importantly the people he found himself caring for. He had made that mistake too many times already. He couldn’t let Ray become the next victim in the line of people that had been hurt by him. Ray took a step back, looking down at his feet. His shoulders were slumped, and he had unclenched his fists. His whole posture screamed resigned. 

The silence was heavy as they stood there. He had hurt Ray with his words. Typical that in trying to do something good for once he hurt probably one of the only people left who seemed invested in his wellbeing. It was a shame that was the problem. What Michael hadn’t expected was the amount of hurt he was experiencing by being the one to cause that pain. He had come to care more about them than he originally thought. That was enough for him to strengthen his resolve to follow this through. But just as soon as he had made that resolve Ray had started talking again. His voice was small and fragile. He kept his head down and shoved his hands in his pocket. 

“You...do you regret...saving us?” he asked softly. Vulnerably. He looked scared of what Michael was going to say. Like he was telling Michael one of his deepest fears. 

His jaw dropped in shock. He hadn’t been expecting that at _all_. He gave the question considerable thought. It had never really crossed his mind. Did he regret it? He thought about Gavin’s indignant squawk as Ray chased him around the penthouse. About how Ray and Gavin practically dragged him out of the conference room with the power of persuasion and took care of him. Ray had leaped to his defense when shit went south at the garage. Gavin offering the bandages even when Michael was being an asshole. Ramsey shooting the shit with him and giving him his fidget cube. How they had all rotated and stayed by his side even when he clearly didn’t want them around. Shit, even the peaceful mornings with Jack, and giving Ryan hell. For the first time, maybe he understood a little bit of the person Miles thought he was capable of being. Of not hurting people. Of saving them instead. And maybe people had died. Maybe people got hurt. But the person in front of him was here. Because of him. And the people this person cared about were still there for him. And for the life of him Michael couldn’t see that as a bad thing.The answer was pretty clear.

“No. Not for a second.”

Ray didn’t look up. Michael stepped closer. “Ray. Look at me.”

Another second went by before he finally looked up and met Michael’s eyes. His resolve to be an ass about this crumbled.

“I don’t. I’ve done a lot of shit things in my life. I have plenty of fucking regrets alright? But saving you guys? It’s not fucking one of them. I don’t see a future where this ends fucking well, but whether I like it or not I’m here. I just don’t want you to fucking waste the second chance you’ve got on giving a shit about the wrong people. I’m not worth it.”

Ray’s eyebrows scrunched up at that. He stepped into Michael’s space. He hadn’t realized how close in height they were. Ray’s voice turned quieter. The vulnerability was back again.

“That isn’t for you to decide.”

Michael didn’t know what to say at that. He just stared. Ray continued.

“We aren’t going to kill you. We aren’t perfect. We’re going to fuck up. We didn’t realize what you were going through. That you haven’t been sleeping. This shit is something we’ve never dealt with before. But like I said, we aren’t going to kill you. I want to help you with this shit at the very least. Gavin’s gonna give you free reign of certain areas of the house. So if you can't sleep you can at least wander around. And maybe you’re right. Maybe we won’t all make it out of this alive. But I swear to you that if you go out, it won't be because any of us pulled the trigger. Can you at least believe that? Can you give me that much?”

Michael's heart stuttered in his chest. What a fucking liar. His dark eyes were wide and pleading. Ray may have just promised he wasn’t going to kill Michael, but Ray was certainly going to be the death of him. He was sure of it. Michael recognized the stubborn set of Ray's jaw for what it was. There was going to be no winning this argument. He let out a long breath he forgot he had been holding.

“Yeah. I think I can manage that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First real progress towards friendship/maybe something more between Michael and one of the Fakes! Eyyyy. *throws confetti* It only took me 20 chapters haha.
> 
> (P.s, updates might slow down a bit temporarily. Some stuff has come up that might take me away from writing. I don't believe it'll affect my writing by any means, but I can't really tell at this point in time. Don't be alarmed! I just like to keep you guys informed when I can haha)


	21. Chapter 21

It was the first morning since Michael and Ray had gotten back from their trip to the mountains. Michael wasn’t...nervous per se. Maybe more apprehensive towards his situation. He knew that something had fundamentally changed between him and Ray. Between him and all of the Fakes really. Ray had said they had no intention of killing him, and he believed that to a degree. He knew that Ray wasn’t lying when he said that, but saying it and making sure it didn’t happen were two completely different things.

Michael knew better than anyone that there were some things that could happen to a person that were far worse than death. And maybe they wouldn’t kill him. But the extent they would go to protect one another had been made perfectly clear. When it came right down to it, Michael was on the bottom of the totem pole.

Really, knowing your standing didn’t magically make things better. He still wasn’t sleeping well for starters. He’d have to find different coping mechanisms if he was ever going to get over the walking nightmare he found himself in every time he closed his eyes. He had to admit though, having the ability to leave the bedroom without fear of being roasted was a start. He knew it was a show of goodwill that they did that. But he wasn’t stupid either. A longer leash meant other preventative measures were in place to monitor him. He’d made a mental note to check for bugs later that day. Not that he had any intention of moving them (yet) but it could come in handy knowing where they were at some point.

It was with all of this in mind that he found himself standing in front of Gavin’s door. There was a light coming from underneath it that had Michael sure Gavin was there. He knew he had some things to say. Not only to Gavin, but to Ramsey as well. Hurting Gavin, and tackling Ray had crossed a line in Michael’s mind that he knew he had to fix. Ray had assured him that there was nothing to be sorry for. That they had understood it was on accident. But that was the thing. It should have never happened in the first place. Regardless of what he might have been going through, Michael should have never put his hands on someone who didn’t deserve to be hit. It was a code he had been steadfast in upholding no matter what the circumstances. In his line of work, sometimes innocents died. It was an occupational hazard he’d never let bother him before. It still didn’t. But the fact that he’d hurt Gavin when he’d only been trying to help (as misguided as Michael thought that was) made his stomach turn. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Things were so much easier before his conversation with Ray. Now he actually had to try and be civil. It was hard to be a dick to people who weren’t actively trying to screw you over. At least by their standards anyway.

Silence greeted him. He knocked again, this time much louder. Just before Michael lost his nerve and decided to come back later he heard a stumble and a crash coming from inside the room. There was a lot of cursing and more crashing. At one point Michael thought he heard what sounded suspiciously like a can avalanche before the cursing stopped. The door flung open and a confused looking Gavin poked his head out. He was clearly trying to come off as casual judging by the way he leaned up against the door frame. Despite being clearly confused, he still mustered up a smile for Michael. There was something cautious about it that Michael kind of hated. Did Gavin think he had no control of himself? Did he think Michael could hit him again at any moment? He hard dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were wrinkled. Michael wasn't the only one who hadn’t slept well that night apparently. When Gavin noticed Michael looking him over, he blushed and tried to flatten his hair a little.

“Hey Michael,” Gavin shuffled his feet before looking behind Michael to see if anyone else was there. When he saw no one, his confusion only grew. “If you’re looking for Ray you just missed him unfortunately.”

Michael shrugged, “I’m not looking for Ray.”

“Oh. Well Geoff isn't here either. I'd imagine he’s in his office at the moment if you wanted to see him.” Gavin tilted his head to indicate the solitary door on the far end of the loft area. Michael shook his head, frustrated with his inability to say what he needed to say. 

“I’m here to talk to you dumb ass. Are you gonna invite me in or what?” 

Gavin stared at him wordlessly before his cautious expression melted into something more genuine. Michael’s unease let up a little. Gavin open to door wider to give Michael enough room to walk through. Michael wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but what he saw certainly wasn’t it. He was reminded a little of a time when he used to read comics as a kid. It was hard not to draw the comparison between Gavin's set up and the Batcave. One wall was covered in monitors of various sizes, Half of them were dark, the other half covering different angles of what Michael recognized as Fake territory through the city. The other walls were occupied with counter space completely filled with a lot of different computer parts. Papers were tacked to the walls and littered the hardwood floor beneath them. Michael kicked them away, spying the culprit of the avalanche he’d heard earlier. A giant pile of red bull cans had been shoved into the corner on one side of the room. It was a wonder Gavin could navigate this room at all. There wasn’t really any spare space that wasn’t being occupied by at least one thing Gavin had haphazardly started working on.

Gavin had followed in after him and pulled out an extra chair from seemingly nowhere for Michael to sit in. He sat in a computer chair opposite of Michael and leaned back, grabbing a pen and paper pad. 

“Is there something you need? Something you want? A request? I can get pretty much anything in a short notice. Though obviously I can’t give you weapons or anything. Though I’m working on letting Geoff give you a phone. It’s rather annoying not being able to contact you when one of us gets pulled away. He still thinks it’s too risky. Sorry about that. But I can probably mana-” Gavin immediately launched into a verbal vomit of information. He started scribbling on the pad of paper.

“Gavin, stop.”

“-ge to get you your own Xbox or something similar. Maybe a Playstation if that suits your fancy more. It must be so boring in that room all by yourself. Maybe I can get you books? Geoff loves reading. I can probably get you a whole library.” Gavin didn’t slow down in the least when Michael tried to interject. In fact, he only seemed to talk faster. His writing also seemed to reflect that as well. 

“Gavin! I don’t want anything from you!” Michael said, a little louder this time. In a desperate attempt to get him to stop the tirade Gavin had worked himself into Michael reached out and grabbed his wrist. The effect was immediate. Gavin snapped his mouth shut and stared at Michael’s hand. 

Realizing what he had done, Michael immediately let go. He held back an irritated sound. In an attempt to come make amends he had only made things worse. If Gavin didn’t think he was out of control he certainly did now. Gavin to his credit hadn’t reacted in a negative manner at all. His confused expression had returned. He was regarding Michael with a clear question in his eyes.

“If you didn’t need anything….?”

He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Better to rip of the band-aid and just come out with it. It’s not like he really wanted Gavin’s forgiveness. It was just that he couldn’t really live with himself knowing Gavin thought he was the kind of person to just hit people randomly. He didn’t ever want Gavin to wonder if something he could say or do would result in Michael actually seriously hurting him. The guy was kind of an idiot, but no one deserved to live in that kind of fear. It was really really important to Michael that Gavin know that. 

And maybe it hadn’t been that way before. But he’d promised Ray he’d try. At the very least until he was set free. Ray had said they weren’t going to kill him. He could at least make sure it was a two way street. With the ones that actually hadn’t gone out of their way to cause him harm anyway. Jury was still out on Ryan at least.

“I just wanted to say sorry. For hitting you I mean. I know I must have hit your bullet wound. And I guess I threw stuff at you before? I didn’t mean it. Well I did that last time. But not in the context you might think. I don't really remember the other times it happened. I just didn’t want you to think that I’d do that on purpose. Even if you are really annoying. I know I’ve been kind of a dick to you so I just wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t a dick that hit people without reason. I’m not like that. And Ray said you guys never wanted to kill me, so maybe there was some misunderstandings there? I thought you were….so I went out of my way to be an ass. And now I know that’s sort of not the case anymore. Though Geoff didn’t help that any in the beginning. Just...you know….sorry.” he finished lamely. He knew he’d rambled. He felt like a complete idiot. He should have spent more time thinking about what he was going to say. Now his apology was gonna look half assed. Fuck.

If anything, Gavin looked even more confused than before. But his eyes were warm and bright. Michael felt his face turn red as he prepared to clarify what he was sure had come out sounding like a bumbling mess. Gavin spoke up before he could try and rectify his terrible speech.

“Don’t be a knob boi. It was our fault for barging in like that. Geoff said to give you space and we just walked in willy nilly. Ray and I especially should have known not to do that. Especially after the first time Geo-” Gavin stopped himself and shrugged, “Well. Just believe me when I say we should have known.”

Michael’s face twisted in frustration. He should have known that Gavin’s response would be really similar to Ray’s. It left a really unsatisfying feeling in his chest. It wasn’t their fault really. They didn’t know how important it was to Michael that they understand. He would just have to prove it to them. Gavin didn’t seem scared of him in that moment which was good. At the very least if they were going to be stuck together Michael had time to change what he’d done. He would just have to be extra mindful of where he slept from now on. He was more determined than ever to try and live with the fresh new onslaught of nightmare fuel that assaulted his mind. It wasn’t any less frustrating though.

“Whatever you say.” he muttered sullenly in response. He wasn’t really interested in going ten rounds with the guy over the situation. It would be a day long conversation talking about things Michael didn’t want to for one.

The silence between them had suddenly turned awkward. Michael shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Gavin was just staring at him, an odd expression on his face. Michael realized that since meeting Gavin, this was the first time Gavin had his attention focused fully on Michael himself. Usually he had some sort of device on him or was fiddling with his phone. There was always a distraction keeping Gavin only half tuned into a conversation. It wasn’t a piercing gaze like Ramsey’s, or a cold gaze like Ryan’s. But there was something really analytical about it that made Michael want to fidget. It felt really rude and half assed to try and leave right after apologizing, but suddenly that’s what he found himself wanting to do. In trying to avoid Gavin’s gaze had spotted the pile of cans again. He sincerely hoped those had accumulated over time. Gavin would be insufferable later if he’d drunk those in the course of one night. It wasn't any of his business though. He stood from his chair and walked towards the door, determined to leave before he made a fool of himself any further. Fuck being rude at that point.

“Michael?” Gavin said from somewhere behind him.

Michael turned to face Gavin. He was looking down and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. There was something vulnerable about the way he was sitting now. It reminded Michael a lot of the way Ray looked yesterday. Like he had something on his mind. Michael really really didn’t want to have another heart to heart. He wasn’t good with the whole feelings thing. In fact, he spent most of his time trying to be as unfeeling as possible. These people were really putting a damper on those efforts. And it was freaking him out that so many people were interested in having on with him all of a sudden. He’d barely avoided a conversation with Jack as soon as they got back as it was. Though to be fair to Gavin, Michael was the one to start it this time. 

“Yeah?” he realized warily, keeping his hand on the door knob in case he needed to make a quick escape from what Gavin was about to ask him. Gavin looked at him for another moment before shaking his head. Turning around and digging through a pile of papers at his feet he picked up a rectangle box. It had art on the cover that he couldn’t quite make out. 

Standing from his chair, Gavin walked across the room and tentatively held the box out towards Michael. He realized with a start that it was a DVD box. He took it from Gavin and read the title on the side. 

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to watch it with me today. Ray told me what movie it was and I ordered it. I was gonna ask you a long time ago but….you know. You don’t have to though. I know you’re still recovering.” he shrugged sheepishly and rubbed that back of his neck.

Michael looked from the DVD to Gavin and back again. Well, he figured he had nothing better to do. And watching a movie gave him an excuse not to talk to anyone else who might want to pour their heart and soul out to him. At least for a little while. He had no reason to actively tell them to fuck off anymore. If he was going to be stuck with them he might as well get used to this sort of thing to pass the time. Until the Corpirate blew them all sky high anyway.

“Why the fuck not. I can’t be seen associating with an ignorant fuck who hasn’t seen half the classics, might as well start with Independance Day. Go get shit ready. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

If Gavin looked happy before, the sun itself was probably radiating out of his eyes now. He clapped Michael on the shoulder before bounding out of the room. Michael sighed. One conversation down and one to go. He watched as Gavin practically tripped and fell down the stairs in his haste to get everything ready. Deciding Gavin wasn’t going to break his neck and was safe he head to where Gavin had said Ramsey’s office was. For some reason he was more nervous about this conversation more so than Gavin’s. Gavin was Gavin. He had his quirks, but Michael understood him on some level. Ramsey’s on the other hand was a whole different beast. He had to be careful about what he said and did around this man. He bit his lip and knocked on the door. 

“What’s up?” Unlike Gavin’s response, this one was immediate. The invitation was pretty clear. Michael stepped into the office and shut the door behind him. This room was completely different from any of the rooms he had been in thus far. Ramsey’s office was rich in color from elegant reds to vibrant golds. Some walls were lined from floor to ceiling with giant bookcases filled with books. Gavin wasn’t kidding when he said Ramsey liked to read. One wall had a giant television screen that was currently dark. Another wall was covered in a lot of different maps of the city. Michael kind of liked the fusion of old and new Ramsey had going on. Everything was well worn and warm, but not dated by any means. In front of the giant screen was were Ramsey sat. A giant mahogany desk sprawled in front of him. Four wooden chairs sat on the other side of it. He was currently staring at a map of Vinewood.

“I see that trip with Ray did you some good. You seem less prickly than usual at least.” he said, not taking his eyes off the map.

Michael approached the desk and pulled Ramsey’s fidget cube out of his pocket and placed it there.

”Well. He said some pretty crazy shit I find hard to believe. Like you guys not wanting to kill me. Which I think is pretty fucking hilarious seeing as you said yourself you were going to. And that he was sorry you guys fucked up looking after me. Another thing I find pretty fucking funny since you said that wasn’t a priority for you guys.”

Ramsey tore his eyes away from the map and looked out the window. There was a moment of silence before he responded. He sounded tired in a way that made Michael cringe a little. 

“I say a lot of shit. I take some pride in the fact that most of the shit I say I usually mean. But I’m also man enough to admit I can be wrong.” He looked at Michael and smiled a little before continuing, “Not always. But I can be. And honestly, I didn’t figure you to be the type to just fuck off to wherever and not give a shit about what happens to you in the meantime. Call it a misjudge of character if you will. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.” 

Michael pulled out a chair and plopped into it. Leaning backwards he laced his fingers behind his head.

“First of all, fuck you, you don’t know a thing about me. Secondly, are you going to be killing me or not? Just tell it to me straight. ‘Cause Ray is walking around saying no, but your bffs Jack and Ryan don’t seem to agree. And who the hell knows what Gavin is thinking half the time. Though I’m pretty sure he agrees with Ray.”

Ramsey leveled him with a look before pulling out a decanter out from one of his desk drawers. His expression had darkened significantly when he had mentioned the older two people in this dysfunctional crew. Pouring himself a drink Ramsey allowed himself a sip before responding.

“No. I don’t plan on killing you. Jack and Ryan fucked up. I can’t let you go obviously, but as soon as we are done dealing with the rival crew I plan on letting you go your merry way. Ray was right about that. Like I said, I say a lot of shit. I’ve also been known to change my mind. It’s the privilege of being the one with the power.”

Michael found that seriously hard to believe. It was such a stupid move. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands.

“Oh yeah? And what made you change your mind?”

Ramsey raised and eyebrow and took another sip of his drink. “What made you save Gavin and Ray?”

Well shit. He had him there. “Touche.”

Ramsey waved his drink at Michael sarcastically. He turned his attention back to the map in front of him. Michael saw a criss cross of a lot of different lines through the territory. Last time he had checked, the Fakes controlled only a small portion of it. Feeding drugs to the rich and famous was good business, he could see why Ramsey might want to expand there. It was impressive that he was still looking to expand his business even with the Corpirate on his ass at every turn. Though maybe a bit stupid. That’s how shit burnt out really quick. Suddenly Ramsey’s tired demeanor made a lot more sense. The mother fucker was always busy. And by the looks of it, he and his second in command were on the outs. Along with one of his biggest assets. Wherever the fuck Ryan had gone off to. 

“You know, letting a liability like me walk around your house and absorb this information is a terrible fucking idea. I thought you were letting me in on all this shit because you had no intention of letting me walk away with it. Turns out you’re either just crazy or fucking stupid.”

Ramsey laughed. “Oh yeah? Who is gonna take in a mercenary with a bounty on his head in the millions? You’re the crazy one to think you’ve got a place in this city after we cut you loose. Fact of the matter is you’re a traitor. No one wants a snitch on their side. You’ll get used up dry and get a bullet to the head for your troubles.”

Well, he had a point there. And it wasn’t like Michael had any intention of sticking around this shitty city as soon as his monitor was taken off. Didn’t mean he couldn’t have an opinion about it though.

“Crime is a business, and let me tell you, you’re a pretty shitty business man. Not the worst, but not the best. Your gambling will get you fucked up someday.” he said standing up and pushing Ramsey’s fidget cube towards him further.

Ramsey’s amused smile slipped from his face as he listened. He stared at Michael wordlessly. Had he pushed a button he didn’t know existed? All he knew is that he didn’t like the way Ramsey was looking at him now. His glass was frozen halfway to his lips and his gaze had turned appraising.

“ _What?_ ” Michael said, irritated. He didn’t like being stared at.

Ramsey only stared at him a second longer before his posture thawed. He finished his drink and shrugged.

“Some of the shit you say throws me for a loop sometimes. Don’t worry about it.”

Michael rolled his eyes. Typical crime boss. Being cryptic as fuck seemed to be in the job description of every single one he’d ever met. Ramsey didn’t seem to be any different in that area. 

“Whatever. Gavin wants to watch Independence Day. I’ve taken it upon myself to watch it with him since you heathens don’t seem to care he hasn’t seen it. Put your shitty map away and entertain him for me or I might murder him on the couch before the movie is over. You need it. Your dumb wrinkles are starting to have wrinkles.”

He stomped out of the office and down the stairs before Ramsey could get a word in edgewise. Michael was done having serious conversations for the foreseeable future. He’d had the two he deemed necessary. That was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Happy Memorial Day for those who celebrate! A couple of things to note that I wanted to share. One, I started a side project called Anemoia if you want to go check it out. It's a story I'm working on off and on as I work on this one. Two, I never really considered opening another means of communication besides here to talk and share with you guys. However I've decided to open a tumblr where I share tidbits and pictures related to all of my writing. So if you want to know what I'm picturing as I write things, where the story might be going, seeing mood boards, or anything else fic related I might do check it out! Feel free to drop a comment there too if you'd like. They give me life <3 
> 
> eckham.tumblr.com
> 
> Until next time!


	22. Chapter 22

_“So Michael….” Miles said as they both exit Sawyer's office._

_“No.” he replied instantly. Miles laughed from next to him. They had just gotten done giving Sawyer their report on their latest mission. She had been particularly harsh on him this go around about how he’d handled it. He wasn’t in the mood for Miles and his idle chatter. He was tired, bruised, and hungry. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his garage and sleep the rest of the day away. But if it was one thing he knew about Miles, it was that he was a persistent little shit._

_“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Miles pressed onward as if he didn't know Michael was glaring daggers at him. Yep. Persistent. Michael sneered at him._

_“I didn’t have to. It was going to be something obnoxiously positive and equally as stupid. You only use that tone when you’re about to say something dumb.” There. Now maybe he’d leave him alone._

_Miles to his credit looked entirely unfazed by Michael's sour mood._

_“Whats with you and Sawyer anyway? She seems to treat you differently than everyone else.” he questioned._

_Michael snorted. “If by different you mean way worse than yeah. Fucking different alright.”_

_In truth, it was something Michael had wondered himself. His relationship with the woman was….complicated. There was no love between them, that much was clear. But there also wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for her. He was a weapon, built from the ground up by her brutal hand. She had always made that pretty clear. If it was one thing he’d always appreciate about her, it’s that he always knew where he stood in her expectations of him. What he didn’t like was Miles scrutinizing what was none of his goddamn business. He picked up the pace, hoping Miles would take the hint and leave._

_“I mean, does she even give you any days off? What do you do for fun around here?” Miles continued. The question made Michael tilt his head. It wasn’t something he normally thought about. He woke up, did his job, and maybe had a beer before bed. There wasn’t anything overly complicated about it. He didn’t have time to waste on stupid shit like Miles was surely suggesting._

_“I blow shit up.” he said shortly. He winced a little. It sounded better in his head than it did saying it aloud. Saying it aloud made it sound kind of sad. The look Miles gave him kind of reflected that sentiment. He bristled defensively._

_“Look. If you don’t have anything important to say then I’m leaving. And don’t follow me, or I’ll fucking shoot you. Missions over, I’m not obligated to be your bodyguard anymore. That means murdering you where you stand is back on the table” he threatened. For some reason Miles smiled at that._

_“It’s cute when you get flustered. You try and cover it up by being mean. But I’m onto you Michael. I bet you’re just some big softie when you let your guard down and no one is looking.” Miles nudged Michael in the side playfully. He wanted to throttle Miles right then and there. The idiot was getting too close for comfort. He’d already wormed his way into Michael’s thoughts when he wasn’t around. Gotten close enough to steal a kiss. But no matter how hard Michael tried to shake him off, Miles just kept coming back. It was exasperating. Before he could work up a good insult, Miles continued._

_“I know! Dancing! We should take up dancing! It’d be good for undercover work. I bet you’d secretly love it. And not that club grinding stuff. Maybe waltz or something. I play piano in my free time, you’ve gotta have something that you’d like. A hobby or something! We can do it together! It’d be fun!” Mile slapped him on the shoulder. Michael turned to him and stared. Was he fucking serious?_

_“Are you on crack Miles? Get the fuck outta here. We are not dancing, nor will we ever dance. I can’t handle you today. Just fucking leave why don’t you? Your idiocy is getting on my last nerve.”_

_“C’mon Michaeellll!”_

He stared at the ceiling for a moment before sighing. He supposed letting himself drift and think of Miles was a lot easier than having nightmares about Percy’s bloody corpse. Not by much, but still. His knee sort of ached, his face still hurt, and he felt winded. It was stupid, it had been a couple of weeks since the hostage exchange, but some days he still felt like a wreck. Sometimes, if he stopped trying so hard, he could almost forget everything going on. Then the nasty bruising on his hand or stepping just wrong sent a painful reminder that his mistreatment of his body wasn't going to magically go away like he wished it would.

Since his talk with Ramsay, it seemed like the penthouse had settled into an odd sort of routine. It was….quiet. Ray and Gavin were still around as much as they could be, but there was a certain strain to the way they all interacted with each other. Before, it was loud and light hearted. All smiles and banter between the five members. Even Ryan the grouch guy cracked a smile once in awhile. After the garage, and the subsequent events following, things had clearly changed. More than once Michael had walked into the living room and happened upon a moody Jack and a stoic Ramsey sitting on the couch. 

Not to mention the very few times he'd seen Ryan, the atmosphere between him and the Fakes leader had turned straight up icy. It only seemed to get worse when instead of acknowledging the assassin and his obvious baiting, Michael chose to completely ignore Ryan. It seemed to get under his skin in a way nothing else Michael had ever said to him before did. Michael was actively trying not to be a dick, but there was just something about Ryan that made it hard. Instead of being an asshole, Michael preferred to ignore him to avoid conflict. And Ryan popping up unexpectedly seemed to bring unexpected consequences.

The man was still a frequent visitor to Michael's nightmares. It was no surprise that every time he laid eyes on Ryan afterwards he shut down a bit. It's not that he was afraid of Ryan, it was just that the image of him triggered memories of whatever fresh horror his mind decided to conjure up to have dream Ryan inflict on Percy or someone he cared about the previous night. That and he was still miffed at him. Balancing trying to avoid confrontation and still be mad at someone was hard. 

Besides his own hang ups with the two older members of the crew, there was some obvious issues they were all having with each other as well. Namely Ramsey, Ray, and Gavin versus Jack and Ryan. It was enough that even Gavin, always the one to see the bright side of a situation, was starting to be affected. He’d taken to muttering darkly any time an argument between any of the broke out. Michael had never noticed how cohesive everyone was, how they all seemed to fit together in harmony, until it was gone. None of them had clearly dealt with being upset at each other for so long. In Michael’s observations of the situation, it all seemed to center around Ramsey himself. 

The older man hadn’t really seemed to take Michael’s words to heart. He’d continued with his workload and it was clearly affecting him. When he wasn’t working, he seemed to be intent on slinking around the penthouse. It was clear that he’d taken up living there full time, while the others rotated between where Michael assumed they truly lived, though never at the same time.

A loud bang and a curse from the living room snapped Michael from his thoughts and he tensed. The noise had come sudden and loud, but as much as MIchael tried to strain his ears he couldn’t hear anything else. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he slowly got out of bed. He looked around in the dark to see if there was something he could use as a weapon. He was fairly certain this was a secure place, but considering the enemies he’d made in his lifetime he’d be foolish to let his guard down. 

The guest bedroom had slowly accumulated knick-knacks and an odd assortment of things during the time he’d spent here since his talk with Ray. Some books Ramsey had recommended to him sat on the desk along with the fidget cube he’d kept managing to sneak back into Michael’s possession. It became some sort of unspoken game between the two of them. To see how long it took the other to notice the small cube among their things. So far Ramsey had gotten the lead by getting Gavin to sneak it back into Ryan’s hoodie. Michael hadn’t noticed it until he’d put the thing back on. A pair of Ray’s shoes sat on the floor next to the door, which Michael strongly suspected Ray used as an excuse to check up on him once in awhile. Michael zeroed in on a pen Gavin had left behind the last time they hung out, playing a stupid game of hangman when Gavin was hiding out and avoiding an irritated Jack and a pissed off Ramsey.

He picked it up and crept out of the hallway. He’d gotten pretty good at opening the door without a sound. It had been worth it to get the jump on Gavin a few times. The mans indignant squawking provided endless amusement for Michael. Now that he was out in the hallway, he could hear the faint sounds of someone shuffling around. The penthouse was dark save for the city lights leaking through the spaces of the large windows of the living room. He crouched and stayed low as he crept, coming up on the shadow looming over the couch. 

He wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol and raised his pen to strike. This drunken assholes mistake would be his last. Michael lunged at the figure, aiming for his neck. But before he could end the intruders life, the lights suddenly turned on in the living room, momentarily blinding him. With a curse he tripped in his lunge and crashed into the individual in front of him in a heap of flailing limbs. 

“What the dicks?” Ramsey grunted as he dealt with Michael's sudden weight on his side. Something shattered next to them and he felt Ramsey flinched when there was an additional crunching sound following after. Michael quickly untangled himself and narrowly avoided shattered glass as he slid backwards off of him. Ramsey to his credit didn't fall over, but he was bracing the couch for support and cursing loudly.

“What the fuck Michael? I thought we were past this whole ‘I'm plotting to kill you’ phase.You aiming to be fried by your monitor or what? Jesus fuck!” Ramsey stumbled trying to regain balance on one foot. Blood was pouring from the other one, but Ramsey seemed to be otherwise ignoring it.

“I thought you were a robber or assassin or something asshole! Who the fuck skulks around in the middle of the night like that?” Michael said defensively as he stood straighter. He felt his face warm in embarrassment as Ramsey looked at him like he was a moron. He looked over to find the culprit of the shattering sound and Ramsey’s bleeding foot. Whiskey and the remnants of a rocks glass littered the floor around Ramsey's feet. The shards glittered in the low lighting of the living room.

“First of all, you apparently, and second of all, it's my fucking house. I’ll skulk as please.” he looked down at the mess that they'd made and pouted. “Awwwh. Myyyy whiskeyyy. You think I can lick it up without cutting myself?”

Michael's eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you fucking _drunk_?” he exclaimed incredulously. 

“I was getting there before slowing down a bit. I remembered there was a little shit in my house that would probably rob me blind and take my watch while I was drunk off my ass if given the chance.” Ramsey said, trying and largely failing to avoid more glass on the floor. He held up the watch that controlled his monitor to indicate what he was talking about. 

“Fucking shit! Stop moving you idiot! You're gonna make it worse!” Michael said, leaning over and grabbing Ramsey by the shoulder so he’d stop. The blood was coalescing around the floor, and Ramsey was making a bloody footprint wherever he tried to walk. 

“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do? Press my Life Alert and hope one of my asshole boyfriends comes to rescue me? No one is here right now but you and me. I may be older, but I’m not an invalid.” Ramsey snapped.

What the fuck did his age have to do with anything? Michael scowled at him. 

“The fuck are you on about? Are you a cranky drunk or something? I'm not afraid to knock you out. Been meaning to clock you since day one and your lap dog isn't here to stop me now.” he snapped back.

“His name is Ryan. _Ry_ an. Not mutt, not lap dog, not psycho. And no I’m not cranky. I just get enough fucking patronizing from everyone else. Don't need it from you too kid.” Ramsey said. He was sliding alongside the back of the couch for support while hopping on one foot. 

“Maybe your boyfriends wouldn't patronize you if you weren't such a dick all the time.” Michael muttered, watching him get blood all over the floor.

Ramsey glared at him sideways, “I'm not afraid to kick the shit out of you, guest or not.”

“Oh? Is that what I am now? Do all of your guests get one of these complementary when they show up or am I just special?” Michael scoffed shaking his foot around so Ramsey was forced to look at the monitor. “and good luck kicking the shit out of me with your gimpy foot now by the way. Looking real forward to seeing you try.”

Ramsey only flipped him off in response. Michael could only stand to watch him struggle for another half a minute before he gave in. It was his fault Ramsey was injured in the first place after all.

“As fun as this has been, watching you hobble is just pitiful. Where's your first aid kit?”

* * *

Getting Ramsey to cooperate hadn't been as hard as Michael expected it to be. After helping him to the couch he'd cleaned up some of the mess they'd made. Somewhere in between that Ramsey had magically procured another glass of whiskey. Michael had eyed it critically but recognized a losing fight when he saw one. He was currently kneeling in front of Ramsey trying to see if there was any leftover glass stuck in his foot. He heard him take a breath and cut him off.

“If you make a single dirty joke about me kneeling in front of you I’ll take this piece of glass and shove it in your eye hole.” Michael said bluntly pointing at the small pile he had pulled out of Ramsey's foot. Whatever Ramsey was about to say died on his lips. He took a sip of whiskey and changed tactics after a moment. It was obvious he was trying to fill the silence with conversation to cover up the awkwardness between them.

“What the hell are you doing up anyway? Shouldn’t you be sleeping or some shit? Choking the chicken maybe? Whatever the fuck it is you get up to in there when no one is around?” he asked. He tried to make it sound nonchalant but it fell short. The question was clearly loaded with presumptions he’d made about Michael’s sleep schedule. Michael was almost certain Lindsay had blabbed some bullshit to the guys about not eating enough or getting enough sleep. She was kind of overbearing like that if her hounding of him was anything to go by. He was still fuzzy about the details of his unconsciousness after the factory, but they way they were suddenly attentive to him when he woke up wasn’t unnoticed. Especially by Ramsey himself, who had previously didn’t seem to care or want to deal with him whatsoever.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answer to.” Michael said, grabbing a bandage from the first aid kit next to him. The cuts themselves didn’t seem that deep, but the worse one was on an awkward spot on Ramsey’s heel. He shifted uncomfortably as Michael made to wrap the wound. This situation was clearly uncomfortable for the both of them. Mostly because Michael was actually going out of his way to interact with Ramsey, and the conversation was overall normal. It was definitely a weird experience for Michael. Usually he was on the other end of the deal, always the one needing patched up. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ramsey replied, pulling out his phone. Before he could start tapping away at it Michael snatched it out of his hands and set it on the ottoman next to them just out of reach. Ramsey made an indignant sound and made grabby hands in a sad attempt to get it back. Yeah, he was definitely on his way to plastered.

“This is why I say you’re a fucking dick. Put the work down for two fucking seconds why don’t you? It’s bad enough Gavin came out of his mom’s vagina with a phone attached to his hand. The least you can do is look at me when you’re pretending to give a shit.” Michael rolled his eyes and continued to apply the bandage. He wasn’t sorry when a particular hard jerk of the bandage sent Ramsey wincing again. It had to be tight or it would just fall right off. Ramsey huffed from somewhere above him.

“I don’t get you Michael. First you save Gav and Ray, then you turn around and go all murder hobo on us, then you don’t want to have anything to do with anybody, and now you suddenly give a shit about my work habits. Every time I think I got a handle on you, you turn around and fuck it all up.” Ramsey ranted, throwing his hands up in the air. His new whiskey swished dangerously in its glass, and his foot jerked away at the movement. Michael let if fall from his hands. He was done bandaging it anyway.

Ramsey clearly didn’t expect an answer from Michael. He would never be saying this if he wasn’t drinking after all. It was a surprise to them both when Michael actually responded. He got up and packed away all of the first aid shit. Carefully he picked the glass that he’d pulled from Ramsey’s foot up and threw it all away.

“You should be worried less about what I’ve got going on and more about the shitty soap opera you’re living in. Can you say melodramatic much? You can cut the fucking tension with a knife around here. When the fuck you gonna kiss and make up with ginger and grim reaper?”

“That’s a whole shit pile of none of your business kid.” Ramsey replied, turning around and staring at the dark T.V in front of them. He looked over at the back of Ramsey's head. Michael was satisfied when he didn't see any blood seeping through the bandage itself on his foot. He'd offered to go and try and find some painkillers, but Ramsey simply shook his head and held up his glass. He looked oddly child like sitting there by himself. And also really alone. The shadows played off of his still form, half obscuring him from view. He had his foot propped up on a couch pillow settled on the coffee table in front of him. Speaking of seeming alone….

“Where is everyone anyway?” he questioned. Ramsey had mentioned they were the only ones in the penthouse at the moment. It was rare, usually it was the other way around.

“They’re….staying somewhere else for the night.” 

Michael finished cleaning up the mess around the floor and sat next to Ramsey on the couch. He turned on the T.V and tried remembering how to pull up Netflix. Ray had shown him the other day for when he got bored. Grabbing the remote he began scrolling through the menus. Ramsey looked on curiously as he navigated. Finally pulling up the app Michael started scrolling through all of the movie options, looking for something specific. 

“You don’t have to be all fucking cryptic about it. I know you guys don't live here. You’ve probably got a domestic as shit house somewhere where you all hole up. Though it’s pretty sad that they are all kissing and making up by now and you're sitting here alone and stubborn like a bitter old grandpa.” Michael said, continuing to scroll.

Something changed in the way Ramsey was looking at the T.V. He turned at Michael, and his face went from sulking child to piercing coldness in all of about a second. The emotional, clumsy Ramsey was gone, and it was suddenly replaced with crime boss Ramsey. The guy he’d seen sit across from him and question him, the guy who mercilessly gunned down his enemies. It was protective and fierce. Michael backpedaled a little. He was a smart ass, but he wasn’t really looking to get shot for his trouble. He paused his search of the movie he was looking for and met Ramsey’s look head on.

“What? It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Your shampoo was dated as fuck when I got here and Jack wanders around the kitchen like he isn’t quite sure where everything is. Hell, I broke a fucking chair with my foot. That thing was old as fuck. Not that hard to figure out you don’t fucking live here. And you sure as shit don’t live separate from each other. Not full time anyway. You guys are sickeningly domestic when you aren't squabbling.”

Ramsey’s expression melted a fraction. They stared each other down before Ramsey broke eye contact and took a sip of his whiskey. He leaned backwards into the cushion and slouched, grouching away.

“Those god damn chairs are fine. I’m not replacing them. No matter how many of you bitch at me about them...." he paused for second before continuing, "Gavin wanted me to come with them. But I said there’d be no one here to babysit your sorry ass if I went.” he muttered, sinking into the couch further. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that his excuse was actually valid more so than he was trying to explain it to Michael. 

“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you'll start smelling your own bullshit.” Michael said, a bit irritated he’d been used as an excuse for Ramsey to avoid his problems. That seemed to be as far as either of them was willing to talk about it. They sat in silence as Michael played around on Netflix. He finally found the movie he was looking for and selected it. It was sort of a mutual understanding that neither of them was interested or had any intention of trying to go back to sleep. When Ramsey noticed what movie Michael had selected he snorted. 

“Are you fucking serious? Titanic? This is the movie you choose out of all of the ones available on here?”

Michael tossed the remote on the coffee table and leaned backwards as well. He tucked his legs under him and settled in for the long haul. The crooning notes of the opening credits filled the living room as the movie started to play.

“You said you’ve never seen it. Might as well watch it now. Don’t worry, if you ball your eyes out I promise not to tell anyone…..for a price.” Michael said smugly.

“It’s a movie about a stupid fucking boat sinking. It looks dumb as dicks. I think I’ll be alright.” Ramsey replied, rolling his eyes. He was trying and failing at hiding the small smile he had on his face though. He seemed pretty amused that Michael thought he would cry over a sappy movie like this one seemed to be. Or the notion that he cried over anything really.

“Again. Keep telling yourself that.” Michael grinned knowingly back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! Bonding! <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've actually been sitting on this chapter for awhile, as writing Geoff has proven to be a colossal pain for me. Characterization is important, so its gotta have the right tone or the whole thing feels slightly off and I'm kind of a picky asshole. Anyway, enjoy!

“Fuck.” Geoff sniffled. Michael couldn’t help his own eyes stinging a little as the credits began to roll. He clutched his drink and resisted the urge to chug it. Geoff had offered him some whiskey half way through the movie, and after only a moment's hesitation he’d accepted it. It certainly took the edge off of his nerves, but he was careful about how much he was consuming. It felt weird, indulging in such a thing considering the circumstances, but Michael didn’t see much harm in it if it was just the two of them. He leaned over and pat Ramsey on the shoulder a couple of times.

“Right? Good movie. All the feels. Can’t believe you’d never seen it before now.”

No doubt if Gavin were there he’d try to inevitably get him plastered, which was a huge no no in his books. That was the nice thing about Ramsey though. When he didn’t have a stick up his ass about his job, he was actually not the worst company ever. He respected silence, and when he did break it, the commentary added to the experience of the movie itself. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime. If they all didn’t get murdered at some point during this whole thing.

“You were right you know.”

Michael looked up from his drink. He had been so preoccupied with his thoughts he almost didn’t catch what Ramsey was saying. The man in question was staring down at his own drink, swirling it absently.

“About what?” he asked suspiciously.

“About the Titanic thing. Her life was cool, but it would have been even better with him in it.” he sniffled again. 

“Oh.” he said, a little surprised. Ramsey continued talking as if Michael had said nothing at all.

“Don’t get me wrong. She lived life to the fullest. I mean, did you see the way she was riding that horse? And that mother fucker got what was coming to him, being left alone in the end. What a dick. But…..I bet, she’d be willing to give all of it up, if it meant having him back, just for a moment. Well. Maybe not her kids….but still.”

Ramsey wasn’t looking at him at all at this point. He was now staring wistfully out of one of the large glass sliding doors. Michael stared at him in shock. It was oddly touching to have Ramsey finally agree with him on something. But the conversation was steering in a really uncomfortable direction really fast. 

“Don’t let Ray hear you saying that. You’re already on the rocks with two of your boyfriends. You can’t afford to lose another at this point.” He joked weakly, attempting to change the subject. The joke didn’t have the intended effect though. It landed sort of flat between them. Ramsey tensed and scowled, the earlier look long gone.

“Don’t remind me.” he muttered darkly.

He bit his lip, feeling a little bad about the sudden sour turn Ramsey’s mood had taken. He clutched his glass a little tighter. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe he was tired of walking around on eggshells waiting for the inevitable blow up Ramsey was surely about to have, but Michael felt compelled to speak his mind on the matter.

“Look….all I’m sayin’ is life is too short to hold grudges. You don’t have that many people you trust, better to just let bygones be bygones.” he said back.

Ramsey snorted derisively in response. “That’s rich, coming from you. Don’t think I don’t notice how you practically dive bomb out of the room everytime you think you’re about to be alone with Jack. And don’t even get me started on Ryan.”

He scoffed indignantly. 

“The fuck? Those are two completely different issues. I’m the one scarred for life here, the only complaint you got is that you’re butt hurt they made a choice without you breathing down their necks.” 

Ramsey choked on his drink. He coughed violently before managing to set his glass down, struggling to regain composure as the whisky burned his nose. Michael was mildly impressed that through the whole ordeal, he hadn’t actually spilt anything. He scoot over on the couch, just to be sure he was out of range of being sprayed.

“Are...you...are you fucking serious right now?” he gasped, holding his nose. He looked like even more of a mess now, and it was hard to tell if his eyes were watering as an aftermath of the movie or if it was because of the whiskey he’d just inhaled the wrong way. 

What else was he supposed to mean? Did Ramsey think he was joking? At his confused expression, he shook his head and sighed.

“Jesus, you are. You have no idea.” he said, looking at him with an expression Michael didn’t quite like. The one that felt like Ramsey was peering into his soul again. He sunk into the couch defensively.

“What the fuck are you on about?” he said warily. If he didn’t like the conversation before, he definitely didn’t like it now.

For a moment, Ramsey didn’t say anything at all. He just stared at him consideringly. 

“Well?” he huffed impatiently.

“You think I’m so mad just because they made a choice without me?” he said slowly. 

He wasn’t sure where this was going, but he would play ball. At least for now.

“I mean, yeah? What else could it be?”

He rubbed his face and sighed again. It made Michael feel like he was missing something important. Like he had overlooked some large detail he was supposed to pick up on. It was kind of irritating if he was being honest.

“I’m mad about that. Of course I am. They disobeyed me. We had a plan. They broke my trust. But that’s not what’s keeping this going. That’s not the root of the issue here.” Geoff elaborated, still sniffling. “Sometimes, you have to make choices you don’t want to, even if it hurts other people. In the spur of the moment, in the face of that, we make mistakes. Comes with the business kid. I get that. They get that. I can let that go.Even if I am hurt they didn’t trust my judgement on the matter. Even if they broke our bond.”

Michael tossed him a tissue, and Geoff caught it gratefully.

“Okay, so what’s the big deal here?”

“The big deal here is the price we paid for that choice. The price we are still paying. People got hurt, people that weren’t supposed to.” Geoff continued, shifting in his seat. He was still eying him, but it seemed softer now. Less scowly and more regretful. He blew his nose.

Michael thought about this some, and he could understand where Geoff was coming from. It really was a shit show, and some of his people got hurt in the process. The issue at hand would have been much easier to deal with had they had a second hostage to negotiate with that was for sure. But he still failed to see why that was causing the issue.

“Okay. I see your point. But Mica and Caleb are fine. At least that’s what Gavin tells me. So what’s the big deal? Everything worked out in the end didn’t it?” he questioned, taking another drink from his glass. Geoff shook his head slowly.

“You still don’t get it.”

Now Michael was getting pissed. He didn’t appreciate having something explained to him like a child. Like he was supposed to be coaxed into finding the answer himself. He didn’t even really care that much about their relationship issues, he was just tired of the tension. He regret ever opening his mouth in the first place.

“Get _what_?” he said irritably, throwing an arm up.

“You!” Geoff snapped back, gesturing at him wildly, losing his patience.

That stopped him up short. What did him getting hurt even matter?

“What?”

Geoff gestured at him again.

“Look at you! You never even once considered yourself in the equation did you? I turn my back for two seconds and all of a sudden you’re puking your guts out covered in someone else’s blood, and practically ready to rip Ray’s throat out for even coming near you. _Ray_ of all people. No food or water in this fucking heat, and exposed to something that you were never supposed to see in the first place.” Geoff said, working himself into a rant.

Michael was speechless. He just stared dumbly at Geoff as he raged, letting out all of what was bothering him out. Clearly, this had been on his mind for awhile. He seemed to be pouring all of his stress and anger into his words. Michael could practically see the anxiety bleeding out of him. He was certainly more distraught at the situation than Michael had initially realized. 

“Even after what happened, you still went out of your way to help Mica and Caleb. And then to see Ryan dragging you out of there half dead….just...I didn’t expect….ugh.”

Geoff cut himself off and swiped his glass up, downing the rest of his drink.

“Expect what….?” Michael prodded gently. He was having a hard time following everything he was saying. Some words were slurred, and Ramsey was speaking rapidly, tumbling over his words like he’d been dying to say them for ages. Everything had been bottled up tight, but the lid had been loosened by the alcohol. He was positive Ramsey wouldn’t have told him this in a million years otherwise. He felt bad taking advantage of the situation, but there was no stopping it now. Even if what Ramsey was saying set Michael on edge.

“I didn’t expect that to matter, but I actually felt like shit seeing you like that. You deserved better than the way we were treating you. Not after everything. We’re fucking assholes. I’m an asshole.”

This...this was too much. Panic rose within him like a flash of lightning. He had to get Geoff to understand. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was getting things all wrong. He didn’t want the burden of this attachment. But he could already feel it. How hearing this from Geoff made him feel. How attached Rasmey already was. Ray and Gav were bad enough. But he could always chalk that up to a misplaced sense of them thinking they owed him. This was different. This was terrifying.

“I'm not one of you dude.” he said carefully, trying to formulate the words necessary to get him to understand. “I’m just some guy. You said it yourself. I have no intention of staying here. As soon as this is over I’m out. You don’t know me. I could betray you guys at any second. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

Ramsey shook his head and had the nerve to actually laugh at him.

“Right. The kid who hasn’t demanded a goddamn thing from me since he got here, even though he’s got every right to. Except to maybe tell me to shut the fuck up when I’m being an asshole. You see where I’m going with this?”

He had to get a handle on this quick. They were getting the wrong ideas about him. Making assumptions he didn’t want them to. Eventually he’d cave and let them get too close. He couldn’t let that happen. Not again.

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what the fuck you’re saying. You’re putting way too much stock into stupid shit that doesn’t matter.” he managed. Looking towards the hallway, he briefly debated on how much of a dick move it would be to just leave Ramsey stranded on the couch.

“I know exactly what I’m saying. Drunk or not. So to answer your earlier question. Yes, it would be easier to just let bygones be bygones. But I’ve been having a hard time coming to terms with this shit, and I’m busy as fuck. It hurt me what they did, but again, I can get over that with time. What I’m saying is, it’s not actually me they should be trying to make amends with.”

Michael stood up suddenly, snatching Geoff’s empty glass before he could get another drink.

“Don’t you put this on me. Don’t put the status of your fucking relationship on whether or not I kiss and make up with your dumb fucking boyfriends.” he bit out angrily. It was bad enough that Geoff was saying all of this, but now suddenly all of this fighting was his fault?

Geoff grinned ferally. Geoff’s mood swings were giving him whiplash.

“Interesting choice of words there kid.” he said lazily, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. Michael blushed, throwing the box of tissues at him. 

“Shut the fuck up. Stop doing that dumb thing you do.” he replied, stalking off to the kitchen. He was glad whatever moment they’d been sharing had been broken. Geoff seemed to be feeling better as well, if he had time to be making shitty jokes at Michael’s expense. He ignored the small part of him that was glad for that too. He’d set about rummaging through the cupboard, looking for something for Geoff to eat. He was sure the idiot hadn’t eaten anything before he’d started drinking earlier. He eventually found a box of cookies in the freezer and pulled them out with satisfaction. These would do just fine. He took a cookie out of the box and stuck it in his mouth.

“Ohhh dumb thing? What dumb thing? I do a lot of dumb things when I’m drinking.” Geoff called from the living room.

“That stupid thing where you say something that throws me off guard. Usually involving dumb fucking innuendos that only you are proud of.” he said back, filling a glass of water using the sink. He returned to the living room only to see Geoff had returned to scouring Netflix. He didn’t seem to mind that Michael had confiscated his drink this time. Another one hadn’t magically reappeared at least. He kinda wondered how much booze he’d actually find stashed away if he put his mind to looking for it.

Ramsey heard Michael reentering to room and wiggled his eyebrows at him from over the couch.

“I throw you off guard?” he said sneakily. He took the water Michael offered him gratefully and without much protest. His expression was suggestive, and Michael was sure his face was gonna catch on fire.

“Shut the fuck up and eat these.” he retorted, practically tossing the cookies at Geoff. He snated the box out of the air and read the label with surprise.

“These are Ryan’s tagalongs. You’re eating his cookies. He’s gonna murder you when he finds out.” Geoff practically giggled. Michael leaned over and took another one from the box.

“Fuck Ryan.” he said, popping the second cookie into his mouth.

“Ohh. Nice imagery.” Geoff said without missing a beat.

“Okay. That’s it. I’m going to bed. Good luck hobbling back up to your room by yourself you shitty old criminal.” Michael said, getting up and heading towards the guest bedroom before he spontaneously combusted.

“Wait, don’t leave me here Michael. I’m sorry! Mercy! Have mercy!” Geoff whined.

* * *

Michael was sort of used to being up this late, but Geoff didn’t seem to be. Before they knew it, morning had dawned. They’d wordlessly ate their breakfast as Los Santos came to life below them. They had settled on cereal on the grounds that neither of them wanted to cook. He had to admit, they both looked like shit. Neither of them had intended to be up the whole night. Not in each other’s company anyway.

Neither of them were talking, just idly watching the news. Finally deciding on the right wording, Michael broke the silence.

“About what you said last night…..” Michael began, breaking the silence.

“Finally decided you’re actually impressed with my pick up game?” Geoff answered back, picking up his phone. Michael had given it back to him some hours ago on the grounds that Geoff stop bitching about it. He grinned wolfishly over the device at Michael.

“Not that idiot. Please don’t tell me you aren’t holding out on making up with Ryan and Jack just because of me. You didn’t mean that right? You were just drunk.”

Geoff looked up from his phone and shrugged. 

“First of all, I’m not holding off because of you. They fucked up. It’s their job to fix it. Jack is trying, but I also hold him to a higher standard when it comes to this kind of shit. If he’s just saying sorry because he doesn’t want me to be mad, that won’t fly. He betrayed my trust, that’s not an easy thing to get back. Call me a stubborn asshole for it, but relationships are built on trust.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Michael huffed. 

“You got hurt while under his protection. I entrusted you to him, and he failed you. You don’t have to forgive him, hell, you don’t even have to talk to him as far as I’m concerned. But he’s gotta know that he’s gotta work harder than just apologizing to make the situation right. If he can’t get you alone to apologize he’ll just have to earn it back by showing you. Believe me, I’m not doing this to be an asshole. I hate the situation as much as everyone else.”

“I don’t want to be stuck in the middle of your dumb drama just so you can prove a point.” Michael sulked.

“It’s a point that has to be made. I think you know better than anyone that if we’re gonna make it out of this it’s got to be on a united front. Same page. Or at least the same fuckin’ book.” he said tiredly. What was there to say to that?

“They were only doing what they thought was right for their people. I can’t hold that against them. At least their actions make sense.” he mumbled, stirring his soggy cereal around.

“Maybe I’ll believe that when you stop trying to flee out of the room every time anyone remotely uncomfortable is around. Or ignoring Ryan. Though I can’t tell if you do that just to piss him off or not.” Geoff snickered.

“Whatever.” he muttered, ignoring him in favor of eating the rest of his cereal before it was unsalvageable.

The elevator dinged behind them and laughter could be heard as the doors slid open. The easy laziness had slipped from Ramsey’s posture and was replaced with a tense sort of hunch. Michael flicked a cornflake at him. “Don’t be a fucking drama queen.” he muttered so only Ramsey could hear. It wasn’t until he heard Barbara’s laughter that he tensed up as well.

“Who’s the drama queen now?” Ramsey muttered back.

Michael flipped him off and stood up. Jack, Ryan, Gavin, and Ray all stepped through the elevator with Barbara following close behind. She had one of her arms wrapped around Gavin's shoulders and was in the middle of making some terrible joke when their eyes met. 

“Oh look. Geoff’s making friends. Is little Michael house trained yet?” Barbara cooed. 

“Shut the fuck up she-devil.” Michael grimaced at her, keeping distance between them. Gavin looked absolutely tickled when he’d realized he and Ramsey had been having breakfast together, but not at all surprised. He narrowed his eyes at the Brit. Michael had a sneaking suspicion Gavin had something to do with the lights suddenly turning on last night before he’d accidentally shanked Geoff. He had mentioned that they could be remotely accessed with the right program. Jack was looking between the two of them with curiosity, but otherwise didn’t mention anything. He was holding Ray’s hand. It seemed more to lead the half asleep sniper than anything. Mornings didn’t seem to be Ray’s thing at all.

“Aw, is that anyway to talk to one of your _friends_ Michael? I thought we knew each other better than that. I’d tell you a chemistry joke to lift your spirits but I don’t think I’d get a reaction.” Barbara said slyly.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re the fucking worst? Because you are.” Michael said with significantly less heat than before. He’d received the hidden threat loud and clear. Be nice or she’d open her big mouth about shit he didn’t want out in the open. His nerves already felt raw enough, talking with Geoff about this new found common ground they found themselves on. He didn’t need more of his business out in the open.

They all gathered around the island around him and Ramsey, and suddenly all Michael wanted to do was run away. He’d missed the peace and quiet he offered already. Remembering his words from earlier, he stayed though. If not just to spite Ramsey.

“We met Barbara down stairs, she said she has news about the traitor we’ve been trying to track down!” Gavin said brightly, still looking between him and Ramsey with a shit eating grin on his face. Michael narrowed his eyes at him. He didn’t like how scheming Gavin looked. Ramsey seemed to share the same notion, but instead of suspicious he’d looked resigned.

Ryan hadn’t bothered to address any of them. He set about rummaging through the freezer, ignoring everyone.

“Yup. Word has it that Michael’s old crew has been trading information via the Mount Chilliad networks. Something big is going down up there. If you’re gonna find out who's been selling your information, it’ll be there during the races this weekend. It’s been hush hush about what exactly is going down, we just know it’s supposed to be big. We can get more info for you….for a price of course.” Barbara added, picking at her nails.

“How can you be so sure this info is legit?” Jack asked. Barbara scoffed.

“Have I let you down before?” she replied, indignant. Jack only looked at her skeptically. Ray plopped down in the seat next to Michael, only managing a grunt in greeting. She sighed, as if she were dealing with children.

“I picked up the info from the….guy you have me following around. You know the one.” she said, waving her hand. Ramsey nodded, absorbing this information. They all seemed to accept this as valid reasoning her information was solid. Michael didn’t miss the crypticness in which she said it. He supposed even if he was considered under Ramsey’s protection now, whatever that entailed, being privy to the inner workings of their resources wasn’t one of the perks. 

“Mount Chilliad are Jack’s old stomping grounds. He should be the one to take point on this one yeah?” Gavin offered helpfully. He was looking hopefully between Ramsey and Jack now. Jack of course, immediately jumped on the chance.

“Yeah. I know the scene like the back of my hand. It would make sense for me to go.” he added, looking at Ramsey as well. He tensed under the sudden attention. He looked at Jack, and they seemed to communicate silently for a moment before his shoulders slumped.

“Fine. Jack takes point. It’d be stupid for me to show up. I draw too much attention.” he relented. Michael could have swore Jack was about to break into dance with how much he glowed at the chance.

“But I’m not sending you in alone. The situation is too dangerous. Ryan?” Ramsey turned to Ryan, who was still rummaging in the freezer. 

“I’m on security duty for the next shipment Caleb was supposed to be taking care of.” he replied, not even bothering to glance back.

“I can do it!” Gavin said, walking over to Jack. Geoff shook his head. 

“No. You stand out just as much as I do. Whether you intend to or not. I have work for you here I need taken care of. Besides, you can’t drive for shit. You’ll be useless up there.”

“Well you can send Ray, he’s shit at up close and personal interaction. And he can’t drive for shit either.” Gavin said sourly. Ray flipped him off and lay his head on the counter. 

“This is too delicate of a situation. Maybe one of B-Team. Trevor can help, he mentioned something going down up there...he already knows-” Ramsey began, running a hand through his hair. Michael looked around the room and made the mistake of meeting Gavin’s gaze. He practically saw the light bulb go off above his head. Before Michael could cut off what he was about to say, Gavin spoke.

“What about Michael?” Gavin interrupted. “Only if he wants to of course.”

He dropped his spoon in surprise. He was the last person on Earth he expected them to consider. Everyone else seemed just as shocked. Even Ryan paused in his rummaging for a moment. Suddenly Gavin’s shady expression made a lot more sense. He scowled at him. Gavin played it off innocently.

“No harm in it right? Michael is unknown around here. That way Jack won't be by himself.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea Gavin….if the guy Barbra has marked knows something is going down police will be all over that shit, not just any rival crews.” Geoff began.

“Yeah. If some of my old crew will be there, not really looking to have another meet and greet. Besides, I have a bounty on my head now. In case you’ve forgotten.” Michael said, sneering a little. Jack flinched at that. It was harsh, but his point still stood. He really didn’t want to risk running into someone he knew from before. The last time had turned out to be a disaster. He wasn’t looking for a repeat performance. Gavin, the little shit, seemed to be prepared for this response.

“All the more reason you should go. Your bounty gives you credibility with some of the inner betting rings up there. Besides, I don't think you’re old mates will make a move on you out in the open. Not everyone will be on their side. We aren’t the only gang in Los Santos after all. They won't make a power play and risk pissing off potential allies.” Gavin supplied.

He just had all of the angles covered didn’t he? Michael always knew Gavin would pull a stunt like this, he just didn’t know it would happen so soon. Probably some misguided attempt to get them to bond or some shit.

“It’s up to Michael.” was all Geoff remarked on the matter. Barbara shrugged and walked back into the elevator.

“I’ll keep in touch about the rest of the details later. It was nice seeing you Michael!” she called out as the elevator doors slid shut.

Before anyone could say anything else, Ryan slammed the freezer door shut with a growl.

“Where the fuck are my cookies?” he said, turning on the rest of them. It was hard to take him seriously when he was wearing what he was pretty sure was one of Jack’s jerseys and some baggy jeans. Michael could barely see a hint of a love bite on his neck peeking out from his collar. Either way, the rest of the guys looked to Michael and Geoff. Geoff looked horrified for a brief moment as he met Michael’s gaze. Before he could muster up a defense, Michael went in for the kill.

“Ramsey got wasted last night and ate them.” he cut in before he could get a word in edgewise. Ryan whirled on him, his eyes practically sparking with malice.

“You motherfucker! You and I both know that’s a lie!” Ramsey screeched, attempting to get down off of his bar stool. Probably to try and run for his life.

“Oh really? Care to explain to your boyfriends what happened to your foot then?” he grinned, fleeing the room. As if on cue, he had put to much pressure on his bad foot and knocked into Ray, trying to break his fall. This caused a chain reaction, as Ray hadn’t been expecting the sudden weight pulling at him. His stool wobbled precariously as he snapped awake and grabbed at the counter to stay upright.

Michael couldn’t help but laugh as he heard Jack’s worried “What? What’s wrong with your foot?” mixed in with Ryans furious tantrum.

Blissfully, for the moment, all plans for Mount Chilliad and Michael’s potential involvement were forgotten.


	24. Chapter 24

The car was silent, and for once Michael hated it. Mostly because it was awkward. The air was thick with it. He wished Jack would at least turn on the radio. At the very least to provide some sort of distraction from the giant elephant in the room. He’d watched Jack’s internal struggle for half an hour from the corner of his eye as they drove through Los Santos. At first it had been a little amusing. The vindictive part of him got pleasure watching Jack struggle with what to say. He switched between clutching the wheel tightly and opening his mouth to pursing his lips and tightening his jaw. Eventually he stopped, his face smoothing into one of focus and determination. Whatever conclusion Jack had come to, he’d decided it wasn’t worth saying anything at the moment. 

And really, what did Michael expect from him anyway? An apology? No. Michael didn’t need nor want one from him. Jack didn’t owe him shit. Not really. Michael wasn’t even really that mad at him. He’d just been doing what he thought was right. He seemed to be the only one that got it besides Ryan. And fuck Ryan anyway. Michael didn’t belong with any of them. Not really. The heavy weight on his ankle was proof of that. No matter what Gavin, or Ray thought. Or even Ramsey. 

In the end it didn’t matter that he had realized he sort of started to get used to being around them. Maybe even sort of liked their company. That Gavin had him in the palm of his stupid foreign hand. Everything was temporary. Besides, it was hard not to start getting used to someone when you were forced to be around them 24/7. His feelings on the matter probably weren’t even real. Probably just some shitty form of Stockholm Syndrome forming that he had no control over. He’d wished he’d kept that in mind before he’d let Gavin bully him into coming along on this stupid plan.

So no. He didn’t want that from Jack. The others had wrongfully assumed that’s what he was after. That’s how he felt. But the truth was much more embarrassing on his part. He wished he could be mad. Could lash out and tell Jack to go to hell. But because he knew where Jack was coming from, he was robbed of the angry justifications he knew he should feel. The truth was….he was just...not exactly afraid. Just wary. Tired. He didn’t want the stress of figuring out what the hell to say and when to say it. And to be honest, after his conversation with Ramsey and subsequently Gavin he was even more determined to stay away from topics that would otherwise lead to conversations about feelings. What kind of look would Jack give him if he said he wasn’t mad? Probably one that thought Michael was out of his goddamn mind. He probably was. Had been for a long time.

The conversation was better left avoided.So he’d taken to running away from it. It was petty, but they didn’t give him a whole lot of allowances. Avoiding Jack seemed to be one of the few they gave him besides being able to roam the penthouse. Until now of course. When they needed him.

Looking out the window, he realized they were exiting the city. He squished the growing apprehension in his chest with irritation. He looked over at Jack and realized he must have been thinking the same thing. He scowled at the understanding look Jack gave him and sun lower into his seat. Jack only sighed in return and looked back at the road.

“Not long till we hit the mountain…..” Jack said, finally breaking the silence between them. He trailed off like he wanted to say more. Michael of course, didn’t respond. His patience was rewarded eventually when Jack cleared his throat.

“I don’t know what changed your mind all of a sudden. But thanks for coming with me.”

That surprised him. It wasn’t the long speech he was sure Jack had prepared. He turned his head to get a good look at him. Jack wasn’t looking back at him. He was keeping his eyes on the highway in front of him. There were no streetlights, and traffic had thinned considerably as they got further into the desert. The only thing that illuminated his face were the lights from the dashboard. Another light caught Michael’s eye. The light blinking from the watch that controlled his ankle monitor glowed a dull green in the dark.

His face wasn’t exactly relaxed, but it was smooth. It wasn’t twisted in the permanent mask of anxiety that it usually was these days, being on the outs with Ramsey.

He almost forgot what it looked like, without the negative emotions on it. He remembered that night he caught Jack, dancing around the kitchen with Ryan when they thought everyone else was asleep. The look of love and joy. The bemused expression he held the day Michael’d accidentally set a patio chair on fire. Even those quiet mornings, however few they were, watching the sunrise on Los Santos from the penthouse. No anxiety there. Just quiet contemplation. A blessing when Michael was groggy and too overcome with that night’s set of nightmares to bother with conversation. The day he’d thanked Michael for saving the loves of his life. All sincerity and kindness when he had no reason to be. 

He remembered the conversation he’d had with Gavin and frowned.

“Don’t thank me. Thank your British bastard of a boyfriend.”

* * *

_“Where the fuck are we going?” He asked, walking behind Gavin. They were in a shitty part of town, even by Los Santos standards. The buildings here were cracked and dirty, not a storefront in sight that didn’t have iron bars over its windows. Graffiti caked the walls like it was going out of style on some of the more abandoned looking places. Gavin didn’t pay him any mind. He just kept walking, looking around the neighborhood fondly. The weirdest part, was that everyone seemed to give them a wide berth._

_Polite nods and waves were commonplace here. Something so out of character from anywhere else in the city Michael had to question whether or not they’d walked into a different dimension. He wasn’t usually one to judge, but shitty hoods like these usually breed violence. And no offense to Gavin, but walking down the street he seemed to be the prime target for mugging material. Michael was convinced without him there, he would have been. But he was beginning to doubt that now._

_They came to a stop in front of an old looking nightclub. He could tell what it was by the fading imprint of a shitty looking martini glass sign above the doors. There was some lettering there too, but Michael couldn’t discern what it said. There was only the faint outline where the sign had been ripped off now. It didn’t surprise him that the place was closed. It was in the middle of the day of course._

_What did surprised him though, was that Gavin had lead them to the back door and unlocked it. He walked in like he owned the place, and for all Michael knew he probably did._

_He didn’t even have time to look around before a woman was in his face._

_“Finally! Did you guys get lost or what? We’ve been waiting for ages!” the woman said, slapping Gavin on the shoulder._

_Michael eyes her warily. She didn’t seem bothered at all by his hesitation. She smiled brightly at him and stuck her hand out._

_“Mica! Mica Burton. Glad to officially meet you!” she stuck her hand out at him. He shook it, eyeing her suspiciously. She noticed his puzzled expression and grinned._

_“You probably don’t remember me. But I decked you in that warehouse. Sorry about that. Extenuating circumstances and all that. Your friends are some real assholes by the way.”_

_It only took a second longer before it clicked. The day he’d almost escaped. Right. He knew that. He'd just needed a moment to put a face to the name._

_“Uh….right. No problem.” was all he managed. The clicking of crutches drew his attention. Caleb turned into the room. One of his legs was in a bright pink cast. It was covered in scribbles. Michael could have swore he saw a dick drawn on one side. Upon closer inspection he realized the scribbles were signatures and messages. How...juvenile. He smiled. Caleb looked a lot better from the last time Michael had seen him. He waved at Michael as Mica engaged Gavin in conversation._

_“Hey dude. Long time no see.” Caleb said, greeting him. Michael couldn’t help but laugh and gesture at the crutches._

_“Hey. Shoes on the other foot now huh? Last time we talked I was the one on crutches.”_

_Caleb laughed, adjusting his arms more comfortably._

_“Yeah. I guess technically you’re right. We didn’t talk at all when you went all hero on us huh?”_

_Michael grimaced at the memory and Caleb looked at him solemnly. Bad memories all around for the both of them. For different reasons of course, but new scars all the same. Caleb beckoned him further into the club, and for the first time Michael got a good look around._

_The place was much nicer than the outside alluded to. The room opened up into an open dance floor. It was clean and well kept. Mirrors adorned the back wall, a nice backdrop to the extended bar that took up the space. A spiral staircase took up the left side of the room, leading to a second floor that overlooked the rest of the room. The VIP section Michael had assumed. On the right side a DJ station on a raised platform was shoved up against the wall. From where he stood, he could see a staircase leading to a basement level. The place was bigger than he would have initially thought. It was lit well, and the industrial look of the original pipes and concrete added to the ambiance of the already well decorated building._

_“You ready? Everyone else is already here.” Caleb said, beckoning him forward. Michael looked at him questioningly. He was surprised when he realized he heard other voices in the room. He couldn’t see them, but they were coming from the second floor._

_“Ready for what? Gavin just dragged me out here without telling me what the fuck we were doing.”_

_Caleb looked surprised for a second, looking over at Gavin. He’d been ushered in by Mica already, a little ways ahead of them. He smiled a bit and shook his head._

_“There are some people who want to thank you. For helping me and Mica. Myself included. Geoff didn’t want to allow it. Not yet anyway. But Gavin has a way of getting what he wants. But you probably know that by now at least.”_

_He rolled his eyes and shrugged. He was right about that. He probably would have never showed up if he knew this was going to happen. The gratitude made him uncomfortable. Maybe he’d done something great, but it wasn’t done for the right reasons, and he certainly didn't want thanks for it. People had begun coming down the stairs. He recognized Trevor, Lindsay, and Ray, but everyone else was a mystery to him. He scowled at Ray, who held his hands up innocently. The whole thing stunk of hidden agendas._

_“Not my idea dude.” was all he said._

_The rest of what the guys had dubbed “B-Team” came and introduced themselves, each as intensely curious about him as the last. It was interesting to see the support team that was the backbone of the Fakes operation. Every successful heist, every robbery, every escape plot had been headed by this handful of people. All chosen by the kingpin himself._

_Everyone pulled up a chair and dragged a table to the dance floor. Mica had produced a deck of cards and had started doing card tricks. Everyone sat in a semi circle around her, laughing at her antics. Someone had procured a bunch of alcohol. Michael politely declined when he was offered any._

_He almost laughed. These people were as elusive to the Corpirate as the boogeyman. So many resources poured into weeding these people out. And here he was, sitting around a table and watching them fucking around like only a close knit group could. The trust being put in him wasn’t lost on him. He looked over at Gavin, who was laughing and trying to expose Mica’s card trick. At Ray, who despite his anti social nature seemed completely at ease with the group. Fondness for them grew and he realized with a start that he was enjoying himself as well. All earlier suspicions were easily forgotten._

_Eventually everyone had settled and began playing a made up card game with the rules Michael could only guess at. Before he knew it, he was just as caught up in the card game as the rest of them. Egging on impossible bets at the devious plotting of Gavin and laughing at the inevitable fallout that came with them. In the chaos, Mica had ended up next to him and leaned in._

_“I’m here because of you. Caleb is here because of you. So thanks for that. Whatever your reasons were for doing it.”_

_“Uh...no problem.” he managed. He’d learned very quickly that denying any attempts at showing gratitude only ended up in awkward insists and stunted conversation. The easiest way to get out of discussing the topic was to pretend to accept it. Mica seemed to pick up on this immediately. She looked at him knowingly._

_“Let’s be real. The situation is fucked. But what isn’t nowadays. I don’t know you, but Gavin and Ray seem to really like you. So I trust you. For now. But don’t think I won’t shoot you in the back if I think you’re trouble.” she said lightly. It contrasted wildly with the words she was speaking. Instinctually he knew she was being serious, but his response came naturally._

_“You can certainly fucking try.” he grinned wolfishly at her. This seemed to be the right response. She grinned back._

_“I like you Michael Jones. Don’t think we won’t be best friends if you don’t stick around. I have a million questions I want answered.”_

_He thought of Kdin then. Of how much she would fit in here. She would get along great with everyone here. Mica and Lindsay especially. The thought sent a pang of regret through him. He tried not to think of her when he could. It only lead to pain. He wished she were here now._

_“Sorry, spot’s already taken. Nice try though.”_

_She pat him on the arm and wandered over to where Lindsay was trying to teach Ray how to juggle. He sighed, glad that was over with._

_He couldn’t say how long they hung out. But eventually the crowd dispersed, each person disappearing into some unknown part of the building. It was just Ray, Gavin, and Lindsay with him here now. The club staff had begun to arrive to set up for the night._

_They all sat in the back seat of Lindsay’s car. Michael had been the first to get in, and the other two immediately followed behind. She’d only put up a token of protest, grumbling something about being a glorified chauffeur and puppy love. He was sure he’d misheard the last part though. She’d turned on the radio and begun to sing loudly. Probably to annoy them as a petty form of revenge. He was squished between Gavin and Ray. He couldn’t say he minded the seating arrangement._

_“I know why you did this.” he said, using the music as cover._

_Gavin turned to him. His expression was a touch too innocent. His suspicions from earlier only grew._

_“I have no idea what you’re on about.”_

_Michael looked at him skeptically._

_“I know this was an attempt to manipulate me into helping Jack. You thought by showing me the good I’ve done that I would want to help out more. By showing me that you guys trusted me by showing me B-Team that I would feel comfortable enough putting myself out there for them. For you.”_

_Gavin at least had the decency to look sheepish. If he had double down on his attempts at manipulation Michael might have punched him._

_“Did it work?”_

_Jury was still out there on the sock to the face._

_“Of course it fucking didn’t.” he said, affronted that Gavin thought he’d be swayed so easily into going._

_“The fact that Mica and the rest wanted to meet you wasn’t a lie. They’ve been pestering Geoff non stop to meet you. At least they’ll stop driving him up a wall about it. For now. And they seem to like you. If they didn’t you’d know.” Ray interjected before anything escalated further._

_“Gee. I’m so glad I passed the initiation.” he retorted sarcastically. Ray only smiled at him lopsidedly before turning his own attention out the window._

_The fact that his suspicions about the day were confirmed put a sour taste in his mouth. And enjoyable evening had been tainted now. So what if they’d wanted to meet him? The fact that he was even allowed to do so had nothing to do with he himself. They’d wanted something from him in the end. Of course they did. For once he just wanted something to be simple. But nothing was ever that way. He had a sneaking suspicion that they would never stop trying to get things from him. What else was him being around good for?_

_The rest of the car ride was silent. No one said anything as Lindsay dropped them off. He had the presence of mind to wave goodbye. She beckoned him over before she left though. The awkwardness of the rest of the car ride hadn’t been lost on her._

_“Cut him some slack. He means well. Usually.” she said, looking over at Gavin’s hunched form._

_He shook his head._

_“Sure he does. That doesn’t mean he gets a pass everytime he does something shitty.”_

_For some reason, she seemed pleased by the response._

_“You’ll work it out. Gavin hates it when people are mad at him. Trust me.”_

_He watched as she pulled out of the garage, thinking over her parting words._

_Gavin sulked and Ray disappeared into what Michael had pieced together had been Ryan’s room. Michael had spent the rest of the day meandering in and out of the living room. He wasn’t in the mood to see anyone now. He didn’t think the had the patience for it. Geoff seemed to pick up on this and left him alone. Ryan was gone again, and that was a blessing. Jack was busying himself in the kitchen. Occasionally he’d heard a curse come from the general direction of that area, but in true Michael fashion he’d given Jack a wide berth._

_If he was being honest, it wasn’t that Gavin had wanted something from him. It was that Gavin thought that the best way to get it from him was by being sneaky. He’d made some allowances for some of Gavin’s more manipulative moves since he’d arrived, but enough was enough. He just didn’t want a precedent to be set. He didn’t want to wonder whether every move Gavin made had some sort of double meaning. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did. He found himself wanting Gavin to feel comfortable around him. Enough to just say what he was thinking. And if he ever said no to something, he just wanted it to end there. He didn’t know when or why he started feeling this way, but he suspected his feelings were growing stronger than he’d allowed himself to realize._

_Ever since his talk with Ramsey, it had occurred to him more and more often. Living here had become a lot easier, but had somehow become infinitely more complicated in the process. Logically he knew what Gavin thought of him, how he felt about him, shouldn’t matter._

_It wasn’t until much later that Gavin reappeared. He’d plopped next to Michael during one of his smokes. It surprised him how predictable the action was, once Lindsay had given him a clue as to what was to come. Gavin was obviously here to make amends. For once though, he didn’t have anything to say. He fiddled with his sleeve nervously. Michael sighed and threw him a bone._

_“You here to try an emotionally manipulate me into doing your laundry? Maybe cook you dinner?” he said snidely, letting just a hint of hurt bleed into his tone. Gavin flinched next to him._

_“Okay. I might have deserved that one. Don’t be mad. I’m sorry okay? I was a knob for trying to get you to do something you didn’t want.”_

_He looked over at him. Gavin really did look sorry to his credit. But it wasn’t really enough for Michael. He hated how sore he was about being manipulated by him, but couldn’t help it._

_“You’re only sorry you got caught. I’m not an idiot Gavin. Nothing around this place ever comes for free.” he replied._

_Gavin looked sad and regretful at the sentiment. He reached out, but let his hand fall when Michael eyed his hand suspiciously._

_“I really am sorry. I was being a minge. I guess apart of me thought that by showing you where we came from, showing you that you made a difference, you’d see what I see. That this place means something. That you mean something.”_

_Michael grimaced._

_“I see you’ve been talking to Ramsey.”_

_Gavin smiled at him, relieved that some of the bite had left his tone._

_“Maybe a little.”_

_There was a pause where Michael thought this over. He took a final drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. They watched as the glow of it slowly died._

_“Do you realize what you’re asking me to do? I’m not going on that fucking mountain. The whole thing stinks. And Jack shouldn’t either. Too many fucking unknowns for the plan to be solid. You don’t even know what kind of deal you’re trying to intercept here.”_

_“It’s the only lead we’ve got. And Jack’s going whether we tell him to or not. So we might as well make sure he doesn’t kill himself in the process.” Gavin said somberly._

_“Well then he’s a fucking idiot.” Michael snapped back._

_“You’re the one that’s being a bloody idiot about this!” Gavin accused, glaring at him._

_“It’s not idiotic to call out a shitty plan for what it is!”_

_They sat there in angry silence for so long that Michael thought for sure Gavin had fallen asleep or something. He chanced another glance, and saw that Gavin was looking up at the sky._

_“You know….that club. That was our first real hideout. We could barely afford to set up shop there. The place was a real dump. Our equipment was dated and we counted bullets like rations. I’m a shit shot. Geoff used to get real mad at me for missing all the time.” he smiled at the memory. He looked over and met Michael’s eyes._

_“....Why are you telling me this?” he asked warily._

_“Because I’d do anything to protect what we have. And I think you get that. And I know if you go up there with Jack you won’t let anything happen to him. Shitty plan or no. Even if he was a right bastard to you. Isn’t that enough?”_

_No. It wasn’t enough. How could he explain that to Gavin? That he wasn’t good enough. That he’d failed once before. That Miles was dead because of him? That he’d been trusted with the very same thing not long ago and it had ended in utter failure? Gavin was placing his trust in the wrong person. He was seeing something in Michael that simply wasn’t there. Not anymore._

_He sighed._

_“If I go with Jack will you stop assaulting me with your sentimentality bullshit? For criminals you guys are sappy as fuck.” he muttered in defeat. Gavin smiled warmly at him. Looking all the more like Michael had just offered him the world. He looked away._

_Damn Gavin and his stupid stories. Damn him and his bright smiles. Damn it all._

_“Brilliant! No promises on the bullshit though!” Gavin said brightly, jumping to his feet. Somewhere in the back of his mind Michael recognized how much deep shit he was in with these people. At this very moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It said more about him that he let himself be swayed than it did about Gavin for trying anyway._

* * *

He shook himself from the memory. They were at the base of the mountain now. But instead of taking the main road like Michael expected, they swerved onto a smooth side road. It took them on the opposite side of the mountain, and a bunch of outcroppings shielded the path from view of the highway below. He noticed the flicker of multiple headlights going in the same direction. The loud rev of engines could be heard all around them. They had to roll up the windows to prevent the kicked up dust from overtaking the cab of the car. He heard whooping and hollering even over the multitude of sounds. Jack suddenly slammed on the breaks and Michael cursed and lurched forward in his seat. A shitty looking sports car had just veered in their path. Some idiot was hanging out front of it, giving Jack the finger. Michael couldn’t get a clear sight of him before he swung back into the car.

“What the fuck? What an asshole!” 

He flipped the guy off back, as futile as it was. No one could obviously see him from inside Jack's Entity. Speaking of. Jack had a dangerous glint in his eye. 

“Best you hold onto something.” was all he said. He hand rested calmly on the gear shift for a split second before he shoved it forward. Michael had just enough time to be terrified before the force of the car suddenly gaining speed sent him slamming backwards into his seat. It happened so fast Michael almost missed it.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he practically screamed. Jack grinned maniacally before swinging the car to the edge of the road. Dirts and rocks tinged against the body of the car in a violent rhythm. The cars behind them honked, almost as if encouraging the impromptu challenge. Jack pulled the car swiftly up next to their challenger. Michael clutched at the handle above the door and held on for dear life.

The guy swerved towards them, but Jack called his bluff. Instead of swerving away, he hit the gas harder and switched gears again. The guy was so close to them now, had Michael reached out he could have high fived the guy. He let out an unintelligible sound of terror as Jack answered with a swerve of his own. The guy wasn’t having any of it. He kept onto Jack as they tore down the road at full speed. Michael had made the mistake of looking at the small needle climbing upwards at an alarming rate on Jacks dash. His heart leapt up in his throat. Jack looked down right insane. He had gone from wild to straight up feral in the span of a couple of seconds.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! We’re on the side of a goddamn mountain!” he yelled, desperately hoping Jack would slow down. But his plea fell on deaf ears. Jack’s Entity roared as they took the mountain by storm. Michael swore as they took a hairpin turn at full speed. Jack didn’t even flinch as one of the tires lost traction and came completely off the ground. They fishtailed for a moment before balancing out. They had just barely edged out their opponent with the close call.

Jack slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and the shrieking of the tires against the road was deafening. Before Michael could even blink, their opponent was next to them again. Michael had to hand it to him, he was stubborn. He looked out the front of the car and his eyes widened in horror. There was another hairpin turn coming up. Looking beyond, Michael could only see inky blackness. He blanched.

The race had gone from a bat shit crazy stunt to a deadly game of chicken now as neither car showed any signs of slowing down.

“Jack….slow down.”

Jack ignored him. Michael clutched at his seat so hard his knuckles were white. The turn was approaching at an alarming rate.

“Jack I swear to fucking god slow _down_!”

Their opponent chickened out, slamming on their brakes. They disappeared from Michael’s view in the span of a second. Dust flew up everywhere as the headlights in his rearview mirror became smaller. Michael swung around with wide eyes. It was too late. They were going to fly off the side of the mountain and there was nothing he could do about it.

“JACK!” he screeched. Whether it be a final plea, a desperate cry, or something else entirely, Michael didn’t know. All he knew was his certain death laid in front of him. He was too freaked out, too frozen with absolute fear to even close his eyes.

Jack laughed in response. The mother fucker had the nerve to _laugh_. If Michael wasn't so out of his goddamn mind with terror he might have strangled him right then and there. Ankle monitor be damned. 

He could only watch as Jack braked hard and swung the steering wheel around until it wouldn't turn anymore. Michael felt like a rag doll when he slammed into his door with the force of it. They missed the edge of the drop off in front of them by inches as the Entity swung around in a tight arc and drifted violently around the corner. At least two wheels had come off of the ground this time. He was certain of it by the way the car slammed down on one side. For a second the car felt like it was going to spin out with the sudden turn, but they straightened out just as quick.

“That’s my baby…” Jack cooed, laughing his ass of in the driver’s seat. He pat the steering wheel lovingly as they slowed down to a manageable speed. Michael clutched at his chest, certain his wildly beating heart was going to burst out.

He was so preoccupied with no hyperventilating he didn’t even realize they were approaching a mass of lights and music. They slowed to a stop and he wasted no time getting out of the accursed vehicle. He stumbled and fell on his hands and knees. He’d never been so relieved to be on solid ground in his life. His legs felt like jelly.

“Michael?” Jack called, back to his usual concerned self. He heard him get out of his side of the car. Approaching footsteps told Michael he was hovering nearby, unsure of what he should be doing to comfort Michael in his distress.

“Fuck you! Fuck you fuck you fuck you! Oh my GOD. What the actual FUCK Jack. We could have died. I think I did. Is this the after life? I think my heart literally fucking stopped. Jesus Christ sweet sweet land.” he stammered, letting his body fall prone. The jelly feeling had spread to his arms. He couldn’t even bring himself to care that he was getting dirty. He never wanted to get up again.

“Ah...sorry. Been awhile since I had a good old fashioned race. Guess I got carried away.” he heard Jack say above him. He sounded embarrassed.

Michael turned his head and glared up at the bearded man.

“Carried away?! You call that carried AWAY? More like you drove us straight to death's door and fucking ding dong ditched Satan you fucking animal!” he replied, surly.

“Look...I’ll make it up to you later. We’re here and you're kind of making a scene.” 

Jack pursed his lips, trying and failing to hold back his amusement. He looked around and realized with a start that they were indeed here. Wherever the fuck that was. 

He groaned and let his head hit the ground. It was going to be a long night.

Goddamn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stumbles in* Did I make it in time for Christmas? *checks watch*
> 
>  
> 
> Fuck.
> 
> Well. 
> 
> Merry belated whatever the fuck you celebrate! Hoped you enjoyed Jack being a crazy bastard and Gavin being a sappy fuck with a side of in denial Michael.
> 
> <3
> 
> (Follow me at eckham.tumblr.com if you'd like ;) trying to be more active there)


	25. Chapter 25

He’d gotten up begrudgingly, dusting off his pants in the process. Jack hovered, almost offering his hand to help him up. He’d ignored it, pretending he hadn’t seen the man halfheartedly lift up his hand and let it fall back to his side. He tried no to feel too bad about it. 

He glared at the car that had challenged Jack as it came around the corner. It came to a full stop next to Jacks entity, and he hoped whoever was inside didn’t value their lives very much. If he couldn’t murder Jack, he could get the next best thing.

He practically screamed in frustration when Trevor of all people stepped out the the vehicle. He was oblivious to Michael’s rage as he jogged up to them happily.

“Goddamnit, I really thought I had you that time.” he joked, slapping Jack on the back, “Whoa hey Michael!”

Michael was trying to get at him, but only just missed snatching him. Trevor danced behind Jack like the coward he was.

“Fight me like a man you piece of shit!” he growled, trying to circle around Jack to get to him. Trevor was too fast, and danced just out of reach. He skipped backwards out of range, and Michael stopped just short of the radius of his monitor.

“Hey now, what’s the big deal? What did I do?” he laughed, totally treating Michael like a child having a fit. He didn’t seemed concerned in the least that Michael had every intention of throwing him off the side of the mountain.

“What the fuck was that? You could have killed us you idiot. We almost flew off the road!” he seethed.

“Nahhh. Not with Jack at the wheel. You were totally safe.” he said, circling around the radius. He knew exactly were he could stand where Michael couldn’t get to him, and it was driving Michael up a wall. Michael followed around him like a caged tiger. They did a full circle around Jack, who looked on with a bemused expression.

“My ass! If you hadn’t yielded he would have killed us!”

“Ugh. Right? He just couldn’t let me win.” Trevor sighed dramatically. The point went completely over his head. Michael debated on just saying fuck it to the radius and tackling Trevor right then and there. Jack politely coughed, snapping him out of his angry rant.

“As much as I hate to interrupt, we’ve sort of got things to do. I promise you can get revenge later.” he said, smiling. Michael frowned at him, and his smile faded. 

He looked around for the first time since they’d gotten here, and he was surprised at exactly how much was really going on. The top of this particular mountain had plateaued in a huge flat landscape. Music he didn’t notice before hit his ears, and he realized there was a giant rave going on a little ways ahead. It would have been pitch dark had the light show not illuminated the area. The crowd roared and cheered at the DJ, and the people who were not actively participating in the dancing stumbled around in groups on the edges of the fray. There were cars _Everywhere._ They lined up in massive rows along the edges and down the mountain sides. Smaller flat areas jut out from the landmark, where anyone who knew the right paths could walk to to see the constant races starting and stopping.

Trevor beckoned them to follow when he was sure Michael wasn’t going to murder him. 

“So what do you have so far Trev?” Jack asked, following him. Michael took up the rear and eyed the crowd warily. It wasn’t that he hated parties. He actually kind of liked going to them once in awhile. But this was different. He couldn’t help but feel like they were walking into a den of wolves. He’d never liked doing these sorts of things while he was on the clock, and today was no different. He made sure to keep an eye out for anyone making any suspicious movements in the crowd. Jack and Trevor might be more at ease, but he knew better. If shit went south, a panicking crowd was the worst thing they could ever get caught up in.

“So word on the street is that there is a pink slip for a car everyone has been vying for. Top of the line stuff apparently. Got snagged from right under Ramirez. The idiot let it get stolen, and someone is lookin to sell at the races today.” Trevor said, pushing a path for Jack and Michael to get through more easily. Michael had to strain his ears a bit to catch everything that was said over the pounding music. Luckily Trevor seemed to sense this and skirted around the more compact part of the people.

He didn’t recognize the name at all. It must have been someone local.

“Ramirez? The arms dealer from Vinewood?” Jack asked, confirming Michael’s suspicions. He seemed surprised. Either they had a history, or this Ramirez person didn’t seem like the type to get mixed up in this sort of thing. 

“The very one. He went on an absolute rampage trying to find it. That’s why people like Barbara’s group caught wind so quickly. Normally a car gets jacked and people put out a hit for it right? Guy wants his wheels back. Makes sense. But some of the guys she’s got on the inside said he wasn’t so much mad as he was scared shitless. So what the hell would scare a guy like Ramirez like that?” Trevor said. The cadence in his tone suggested he’d already come to several conclusions about it, but was waiting to hear what Jack thought. Jack considered the question, crossing his arms absently. Something he did when he was thinking about something hard. Michael wasn’t even sure he realized he did it.

“...................If it wasn’t his car to lose. If it belonged to someone much more powerful and dangerous than him. Someone who could squeeze the life out of him and his organization from the inside out.” he said slowly, fitting the pieces of the puzzle together. Michael’s eyebrows pulled downward. The Corpirate? But they weren’t much into the car scene at all. A lot of their bulk business came from prostitution, drugs, and money laundering. What could they possibly want with a car? Had they expanded their business to fit the area? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, but it was sort of out of character.

Trevor snapped and pointed at Jack in agreement.

“Exactly. Then a police report came in that there was some heavy traffic about a bunch of stolen vehicles suddenly resurfacing on the streets. That only happens when….”

“There’s gonna be a huge sell on the mountain.” Jack finished. Trevor grinned.

Michael tried to clamp down his frustration a bit. ‘Sell on the mountain’ seemed to hold a lot more meaning then it did to him. He figured it was just a phrase for a business deal. And that still didn’t explain what the fuck the Corpirate would want with one stupid car. They could afford as many as they wanted. What made this one so special?

“What’s so special about this car?” he asked, voicing his question aloud.

“Nothing as far as I can tell. It’s just your run of the mill import. There is a lot of speculation that your ex buds are the actual owners of the car, so all the big players poked their head out to see what the fuss was about. On top of that, massive car sales are a huge deal and rarely happen nowadays. Now everyone wants a slice of the pie. I don’t think anyone knows what's so special about the car other than that.”

He frowned, not satisfied with the anwer. There was something more going on that Michael couldn’t quite put his finger on. This wasn’t the way his old crew operated at all. If the car was so important, they wouldn’t have trusted someone with it so easily. Definitely not with someone stupid enough to let it get stolen. Sawyer would have calculated it as a possibility. There was only a couple of things that could have gone down. Someone did something that forced them to change their playbook, or for some reason they wanted this car on the market. Was it to get all of the players in the city in one place? But why? Usually they were more discreet with their business then that. Was Geoff pushing them to make reckless moves? Or was it something else entirely? More importantly, who would they send to ensure the car got back into their possession. Where they here now, lurking in the crowd, waiting to strike? He knew there was a possibility that was the case….

The whole thing reeked. He wished he had a clearer picture of what was going on. At least so he could better figure out how to avoid it entirely. If they had really truly lost the car, and the Corpirate showed up to take it by force, they were fucked.  
But Gavin was right...they wouldn't risk making an enemy of the whole city. Not this soon. Not while they were still trying to get their foot in the door…..

He glanced up, realizing they were no longer talking. He caught Jack’s questioning gaze and scowled. Jack blushed and looked away, embarrassed he’d been caught looking. Michael couldn’t fathom what he’d been thinking, but he didn’t like whatever conclusion Jack seemed to come to. Not based off of how he’d clumsily tried to cover it up by talking to Trevor.

“So what we really need is more info. Trev, I need you to go shake some trees. Meet back up in an hour and let me know what you got.” he coughed. Trevor looked at Jack knowingly and opened his mouth. Recognizing the teasing remark before it even passed his lips, Jack cut him off before it could be made heard.

“Clock’s ticking.” he said curtly. Trevor rolled his eyes but complied, letting whatever he was about to say die on his lips. He saluted them mockingly before melting into the crowd in the blink of an eye.

Michael frowned at him as he disappeared. It made him uneasy how fast he’d disappeared into the crowd. It was a stark reminder that anyone with any semblance of skill could pop up at any moment.

Jack didn’t seem to share that sentiment. He was smiling at the place they’d lost sight of him. He wanted to roll his eyes. Of course Jack wasn’t considering the danger they were in. Or if he was, it came second to whatever the hell they were doing here. 

He let Jack lead the way towards a row of tricked out cars. He seemed genuinely excited to look at the impressive models. Michael knew a little about cars, but he could admit looking at these he had little idea what was going on underneath the hoods. 

_You could own your own garage Michael! I’d bet you'd be good at it!_

He grit his teeth as the memory attacked him out of nowhere. Luckily Jack didn’t notice, as he was busy talking to someone animatedly about a new engine or something. 

Yeah fuckin right. He didn’t understand a word they were saying. He shook his head. Like he’d be cut out for any of that. He was grateful for something to focus on though. Even if he didn’t get it. It kept him from letting his mind wander to places he definitely didn’t want it to go. It wasn’t lost on him he hadn’t done anything like this since long before he left Jersey. Not since….well. Since Miles was gone. And yet, here he was. Protecting a man on behalf of another man he didn’t want to admit he was powerless to say no to.

The thought kept him focused on his mission. He’d sized up anyone that came Jack’s way like a good bodyguard. It was almost too easy, letting his body sink into the muscle memory that came with being on guard duty. They did this for a long while until Jack seemed to tire of the conversations. 

Without the car dealers to hide behind though, the silence quickly became awkward.

“So what exactly is a ‘sell on the mountain’?” he asked, using air quotes to emphasize the term. He wanted to nip any sort of awkward conversation in the bud before it could manifest. Awkward conversations always lead to topics Michael would prefer to avoid. He glanced down into the hood of one of the cars Jack was looking at. This one seemed much simpler in design. He could even recognize some of the parts.

“What? They don’t have those in good ol’ Jersey?” he teased, pointing at the long row of cars they’d just gotten done looking at. Michael flashed him a look of annoyance. Figures Jack would be snotty about something Michael asked. He grinned to show he meant no harm but the comment. He even seemed relieved at the opportunity to share what he knew. Michael relaxed a fraction.

“Car jacking was a huge market in Los Santos. Used to be you couldn’t even drive your shitty oldsmobile around without fear of walking out to it being gone with some cinder blocks in its place. The problem with that is that the market gets flooded with stolen vehicles when everyone is doing it for quick cash. When everyone is looking to flip cars with not enough buyers around, suddenly your car theft ring has a whole lot of product with not a lot of money in it. Eventually no one was pushing anything it got so bad.”

He paused and watched as another row of competing cars lined up along a spray painted line. Michael turned to watch with him. There was a sort of electricity in the air was bystanders exchanged money in the area. Probably betting on the outcome. It made sense. Los Santos was kind of a crime cesspool. There was bound to be some over saturation here and there. Similar things had gone down where he’d come from. He’d just never seen it with cars.

“That's when pimping out cars became commonplace. If you’ve got the best looking cars around, you’re suddenly the guy people go to see to get the latest and greatest. But that didn’t solve the over saturation of vehicles on the market. People were interested in buying again, but no one knew who to trust anymore. So how do you prove your cars are better than the other assholes cars down the street?”

A single fog horn pierced the air with it’s wail, and they watched as the racers peeled down the road with another roar. The electricity in the air magnified tenfold as people whooped and hollered at the disappearing headlights. 

“You race them. The car rings would set up pop up parties on the mountain to bring their best cars out to play. And the thing was, no one really knew when a pop up would happen you know? Only the cream of the crop had the inside scoop on when they might be. The top cars and the top products, all in one place, racing to prove to the elite of Los Santos that their money was best spent with them.” Jack said, smiling fondly at the crowd. It clicked right then. Why maybe Jack was a little more on guard. Hadn’t Gavin said these were Jack’s old stomping grounds? He sort of wanted to ask more about that. But he also had a policy of not asking questions he wouldn’t want to answer himself.

“So what happened then? Trevor said they rarely happen now.” he asked instead.

Jack shrugged.

“The market changed. Crime rose. It was less about having the best cars and more about having the biggest gun. The racing stayed, but it's not as huge of a business. With rising technology, cars are getting trickier to steal and ever tricker to flip. Take your pick.”

“Hm.” Michael hummed in response. It really went to show that even if you were in a different city, crime evolved just the same. You had to get with the times or get the fuck out before the times caught up with you. People like Gavin and Kdin wouldn’t have a purpose even ten years ago. But now? They were essential to crews. A hot commodity. It gave him a whole new appreciation for them, and people like them. Michael’s life wouldn’t have been nearly as easy had Kdin not had his back way back then. And he had vague suspicions she still had it now.

“What exactly are we doing? Shouldn’t you be helping Trevor or something?” he replied, gesturing back to the crowd. Better to keep the conversation going. And really, it was easy with Jack. It was hard not to get wrapped up in conversation with someone who genuinely seemed eager to share their knowledge. Jack smiled, and he tried not to be pleased he’d put that expression on his face. 

_'It’s only to waste time while we wait for Trevor. Get your head out of your ass.'_ he thought to himself.

Jack was looking at him now with a calculating expression. Before he could get impatient though, Jack answered.

“The thing about power, is that when you have it, truly have it, you don’t always have to use it in the way you think you know?” he explained. 

Michael scrunched his eyebrows, thinking the words over.

“Sort of. But I don't see how not using it is gonna help anything right now.” he said, failing to see the point.

“By now, everyone is on high alert because of this sale. And this car Trevor was talking about. These people here? I can guarantee you some of them aren't just here to have a good time. We aren't the only ones looking for information. Geoff is a big player in the city. Power draws other power. If I just stand here, sooner or later someone is gonna come around and try and get a look at what cards we’re holding. For better or worse. Every dealer that’s approached us is going to run and tell whomever that we are here.”

That he definitely could understand. Miles had taught him that much. Big players were only interested in keeping the smaller ones beneath their feet. But other rivals? The ones too big to ignore or manipulate? That's where the real trouble started. If they weren’t busy trying to destroy you, they were busy trying to leech of your business. Of course, attracting big people also meant big danger. He knew first hand what getting the attention of people like that got you.

“That’s why Ramsey didn’t want you up here alone. Other risks aside. And here you are. Like a dumbass.” he said curtly. 

“Well we weren’t gonna get anywhere sitting at home.” he shot back. Michael immediately wanted to protest involving him and the word ‘home’ in the same sentence. But it seemed petty. Why the fuck did Jack have to be so stubborn? Couldn’t he see that there were a million other ways to get what he wanted? Ways that didn’t involve him being so much in the center of things? 

But even as he thought it, he knew the immediate answer. There really wasn’t. Not that he could think of. He just wished there were. Maybe what really bothered him was that Jack was here because he had something to prove. After his talk with Ramsey, he knew that he had a part in that. Whether he wanted it or not. He just wished there was a way to tell Jack that he had nothing to prove. Not to him anyway. Jack’s gaze slid from him and onto something else behind him. Whatever it was made the color drain from his face. 

“Uh oh.” he muttered under his breath.

Michael turned to see what he’d been referring to. He picked out a man breaking from the crowd and heading their way almost immediately. There was a smaller younger looking guy behind him. He didn’t really see him as much of a threat. Either of them. The leader was certainly bigger, but he knew that didn’t always mean better. The slight stumble in his walk lead Michael to believe he wasn’t completely sober. If it came down to it, he was pretty sure even the most inexperienced fighter could take him out. What he didn’t like was the look he was giving Jack. He’d seen something similar on plenty of other people before. Hostile. Greedy. Michael already didn’t like him. He stepped back behind Jack to give him the floor. It was obvious he was here to talk to him after all. And the less people noticed him the better.

“Well. If it isn’t the great Jack Patillo, gracing us poor peons with his presence.” the man shouted, spreading his arms out as he got closer. It was a cocky and self assured gesture. He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Hello Markus. Fancy meeting you here.” Jack said, changing his tone to something Michael liked to call a ‘customer service voice’. He was stiff though. It didn’t seem like Jack liked him at all. He probably would have turned and walked the other direction if he’d say this Markus guy first. Michael definitely would have. This guy oozed bad vibes like an infected cut. So far he hadn’t sone anything to warrant him stepping in, but based off of the way Jack subtly leaned away from him Michael knew it was only a matter of time.

He would just have to wait and see what happened. This was Jack’s whole plan after all. He didn’t need it ruined by Michael’s paranoia. And Michael was pretty curious to see how Jack handled his plan going into action. Even if nothing about this guy really screamed big player.

“Fuck off. You know what I’m here for. You owe me a whole lot of cars you motherfucker.” Markus growled, stopping just in front of him. He was thoroughly inside Jack’s bubble now. A sad attempt at intimidation at best. A familiar look of anxiety flashed across Jack’s face before he quickly smoothed it over.

A familiar feeling stirred inside him. Something that had been dormant for a long time. The angry monster within reared its ugly head, suddenly interested in what was happening.

He did _not_ like how close Markus was to Jack.

He grit his teeth, ignoring every instinct in his head howling at him to shove the guy backwards away from him. Jack to his credit, was taking the aggression directed towards him way better than Michael would have.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You got busted because you tried to be the biggest bitch on campus and failed. Not my fault you lost all of your shit.” he replied calmly. Markus didn’t seem to like that very much. His jaw twitched and he clenched his fists at his sides. He was swaying slightly in place, trying his best to keep himself focused. Michael zeroed in on his fists, watching them intently for any sign of foul play. The monster inside him growled.

“You rat me out. I know it. Too much of a coward to face me like a man, so you tipped off the police to get rid of me.” Markus sneered back.

Michael shifted his feet, getting into a stance that would enable him to move at a moments notice. His patience was wearing thin with this verbal back and forth. He wanted nothing more than to break this guys face in and to get them away from here. 

“But it won’t be so easy now. I have friends. Friends in verrry high places. I’m going to crush you and your pathetic operation under my boot, just like you did mine.” he continued, completely oblivious to the hell that was about to rain down on him at the hands of Michael’s fists. The threat only compounded how much of an utter piece of shit Michael thought he was. It only served to prove how much of a coward he was. Coming to Jack with threats with the knowledge that he had back up somewhere. 

Jack took all of this in stride. Sensing the bit of information he wanted, he kept his tone casual. 

“Oh? Friends in high places? Tell me what that’s like. I hear there’s a car up for grabs. Your friends gonna help you get it?” he said, keeping his voice mild. Even through his angry haze, Michael could appreciate Jack’s ability to remain cool under pressure. He held himself to a higher standard than the people around him. Even when he clearly didn’t want to be there, he still kept his eyes on the prize. It momentarily took Michael out of his focus, as he tried to piece together exactly what Jack had picked up on.

“What does it matter? You’ll be dead before it even happens. You and the rest of your uppity crew.” the kid behind Markus guffawed. Michael immediately wanted to punch him too. He hated people like Markus, but he hated kids like this one more. Too starry eyed to see someone for what they were. His head was probably so far up this sleeze balls ass he couldn’t remember what fresh air smelt like. And it was clear Markus was only using him to bad his own ego. A walking a breathing audience to watch as a threw his false bravado around. He clenched his fists, feeling a lot like a wire stretched too tight.

That’s when things turned shitty really quick.

Picking up on what the kid said, Markus looked around. His glazed over gaze passed right over Michael, half obscured by Jack. He was looking for the more notable people in Jacks crew. The menace that was Ryan, the shadow that was Ray, the persona that was Gavin, or the power that was Geoff. Michael was an outlier. An unknown. It wasn’t even figured into this man’s drunken brain that Michael might be more than a nosy on looker.

Jack seemed to pick up on this too. He stiffened as he watched Markus come to several conclusions all at once. The coward had realized he had a chance. The odds, to his knowledge, where in his favor. So of course, like a typical scumbag, he seized his chance.

“Where the fuck is your crew anyway? You so cocky you’d show up here without any backup?” Markus poked Jack’s chest and grinned snidely. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough of a gesture that Jack clenched his jaw. Michael almost intervened right then and there, his anger whooshing in his ears loudly. The only thing that had kept him from action was Jack’s determined gaze. He clenched his fists.

“Or did they finally see what a piece of trash you are and dump you?”

Poke.

Jack stepped backwards, his expression faltering once more. Markus followed him, giving him no space.

_The loving look he gave Ryan, dancing and laughing like a teenager in the middle of the night, when they thought no one was looking. His soft blush when Ryan leaned in for a kiss._

“Are you all alone now? Running back here to lick your wounds and beg for scraps?”

Poke. Jack clenched his fists, preparing for a fight he thought he had to have alone.

_Jack’s unexpected and sincere gratitude, one day out of the blue. Thanking him for what he’d done. His embarrassed but stubborn look all the while._

“Or are they dead? Rotting corpses in the ground? Would serve them right. Uppity motherfuckers strolling around like they own the place. You nipping at their heels.”

_The bemused and mildly horrified expression he’d had, walking out to a burning chair Michael had set on fire. All of them laughing and joking. Alive. Well._

Poke.

“What’s stopping me from making sure you join them? Killing you right here and now and taking back everything you owe me? What’s preventing me huh?”

_The expressions in his memories suddenly shifted. They lay around him, all dead. Gone. Jack’s expression, once full of life, now blank. Just like Miles._

Michael felt the pain, as if someone had actually stabbed him in the chest. It hit him with a force that almost knocked the wind out of him. He wouldn’t stand for it. Not today, not ever again. He was presented with a choice then, a choice to remain passive as he had, or take a stand. 

The choice was as easy to make as breathing.

 _No._ he snarled to himself. _Not while I’m fucking here._

The wire snapped. The anger inside him howled. Adrenaline pumped through his veins suddenly, making everything around them came alive in a vibrant fury.

“Me.” he snarled.

Stepping around Jack and in between him and Markus was easy. Effortless. This is what he had been trained to do after all. Before explosives charmed him into a different role. The adrenaline made everything look like it was happening in slow motion.

He reached up and plucked his wrist right out of the air. It was still poised to poke Jack in the chest again. He bent it back viciously, snapping it like a twig with a satisfying snap

The sound Markus made as the pain pierced his drunken brain gave Michael vicious pleasure. He saw the other hand Markus brought up to defend himself from a mile away. He knocked it away smoothly, using the momentum to twist his arm behind him. Markus howled and jerked as the tendons in his should began to tear from the strain. Michael didn’t give a single flying fuck as he turned Markus away from Jack by his twisted arm, and shoved him into the side of a nearby port a potty. 

The kid, now over the shock of seeing his boss getting the shit kicked out of him, jumped into action. Michael heard him before he saw him. That was why, when the kid tried to jump him from behind, he was ready. He didn’t hesitate to turn on his heel and throw all of his weight into the punch to the kid’s stomach. 

His fist sunk into the kid, and he was going down, but Michael wasn’t done. When the kid predictably doubled over with a strangled gurgle, Michael took him by the back of his stupid head and slammed his face into Michael’s raised knee.

He crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap.

Michael was just about to turn his attention back to Markus, but the idiot he’d just dropped tried to get back up. Annoyance warred with his anger, and he kneeled down next to the kid, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. He looked into his eyes, seeing the defeat written in them as plain as day. His face was smeared with blood oozing out of his definitely broken nose. He was probably only getting up to try and salvage what little of his dignity he had left. Michael didn’t have the patience for it.

“I. Fucking. Dare. You.” he hissed coldly, letting his malice bleed outward into his tone. This kid wasn’t necessary. A waste of space. Not important to this mission, and not the person Jack wanted to talk to. He was expendable, and he was in Michael’s way. If he tried to get up, Michael was going to snap his scrawny neck. That much was certain.

The kid looked terrified as he got the message in those four words. He shakily raised his hands, whimpering in submission. Michael shoved him backwards, and he crumpled in a cry of pain.

He turned toward Markus, who by then had managed to get shakily to his feet. He was leaning against the port a potty for support. Michael stalked over to him and grabbed him by the bad hand. He twisted his arm backwards and pinned him to the side of the port a potty so that his face squished against it. He only grunted this time, now expecting Michael’s assault.

Michael heard Jack approach then, but didn’t bother to look over and see what kind of expression he was wearing. His focus was entirely on Markus, and figuring out what he knew so that they could get this over with.

“Alright you fucker. Let’s play a game. You have five chances to tell Jack what he wants to know. Want to know what happens if you use a chance being a moron?” Michael said coldly. He grabbed onto Markus’s index finger.

“Fuck you.” Markus slurred into the wall of the port a potty.

_Crack._

Michael snapped the finger in his grasp. Much to his delight, Markus howled. Stupid fucker was finally getting what was coming to him. He didn’t feel bad in the least.

“Wrong answer. Four chances before I dump you into this port a potty like the piece of shit you are and roll you down the side of this fucking mountain.”

“You’re gonna pay for this. I have friends…”

Typical. Circle back to the one thing he thought gave him any power here. These kinds of people were all the same.

_Crack_

Another one of his fingers bit the dust. This time it was his middle one. Not only did Markus scream, he’d tried to squirm out of Michael’s grip. Michael wasn’t gonna have any of it. He tightened his hold on Markus’s broken wrist, feeling the bones grind together under his grasp. Markus, as expected, cried out against the abuse of his limb.

“Three chances.” Michael said mercilessly.

Whatever snark Markus had left in him wilted away. Michael sensed the defeat in him. He watched idly as he ran through his options. He was probably trying to stall, maybe hoping one of his so called friends showed up. Michael welcomed the challenge. What he didn’t like though, was the look he was sending Jack. If looks could kill, this guy was certainly attempting murder. He wasn’t having it. 

_Crack._

He snapped another finger with more force than was strictly needed this time. Markus’s knees buckled a little in pain. He knew he’d broken him then and there, all he needed was one last push to make him a blubbering mess. Markus was already practically there. Criminal he might be, but it didn’t seem like he’d ever been on the ass end of someone's ire that didn’t give a fuck about his power. He was smart in that sense, but his luck was up.

“You’re not very good at this game are you? Silence ain't gonna save you. Two chances before you ascend to your true form as a shit stain.” Michael almost singsonged. 

When Markus didn’t react as fast as he’d liked, Michael grabbed his pinky. That seemed to snap Markus to attention.

“Okay! Okay! Wha...what was the fuckin’ question. Tell me the fuckin’ question.” he relented, pressing his forehead to the wall and squeezing his eyes shut. Michael almost broke the pinky just for the hell of it. But even he knew where the line was, as pissed off as he was. He’d gotten what he wanted. Now it was time to give Jack what he wanted. 

He looked at Jack then, meeting his gaze. This was his show. It was only appropriate he take the lead. Michael was only here to make sure he got back in one piece. He deferred the questioning to him. He was just pleased he’d been able to do his job well. And if the grateful look Jack sent his way made him feel even better about it? Well. He was okay with that too. For now. 

He nodded at Jack once, a gesture that assured him he would be safe to get closer if he wanted. Jack smiled and stepped forward.

“So, as I was saying. Tell me about this car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm trying to be more active on my writing page, so if you want to find me on other media you can find me here: https://eckham.tumblr.com
> 
> I had prompts open but forgot to allow asks in the settings cause I'm a dummy lol. If you want to follow up on that particular post, ask questions, or just generally see what I'm up to and come say hi, there is gonna be where you want to do it. Comments here of course, are always just as welcome. Thanks for sticking with me this long. <3


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